You’d Think That Silence Would Be Peaceful.

It Doesn't Feel Like A Date. It Doesn't Feel Like Friendship. It Feels Like Something That Fell Off The Tightrope But Hasn't Yet Hit The Net.

Game Over," You Say, And I Don't Know Which I Take More Exception To-- The Fact That You Say Its Over, Or The Fact That You Say It's A Game.

I Had Made It Somewhere Special, And I'd Gotten There All On My Own. Nobody Had Given It To Me. Nobody Had Told Me To Do It. I'd Climbed And Climbed And Climbed, And This Was My Reward. To Watch Over The World, And To Be Alone With Myself. That, I Found, Was What I Needed.

I Am So Used To Hints And Mixed Messages, Saying Things That Might Mean What They Sort Of Sound Like They Mean. Games And Contests, Roles And Rituals, Talking In Twelve Languages At Once So The True Words Won't Be So Obvious. I Am Not Used To A Plainspoken, Honest Truth.

The Moment You Fall In Love Feels Like It Has Centuries Behind It, Generations - All Of Them Rearranging Themselves So This Precise, Remarkable Intersection Could Happen. In Your Heart, In Your Bones, No Matter How Silly You Know It Is, You Feel That Everything Has Been Leading To This, All The Secret Arrows Were Pointing Here, The Universe And Time Itself Crafted This Long Ago, And You Are Just Now Realizing It, You Are Just Now Arriving At The Place You Were Always Meant To Be.