Words Can Be Used As A Bomb

Why Do You Even Put Up With Me?' 'i'm Not Putting Up With You,' He Said, Softly. 'i'm Loving You.

But Why Would It Matter? We Aren't ... Or...uh...weren't ..." Which Is It, Jess? "aren't" Or "weren't"? Present Or Past Tense? Now Or Then? "we Haven't Been Talking To Each Other." Past Imperfect Tense. How Appropriate.

And Yet I Know I Am Too Young, That We're Too Young, For Me To Live My Life Only As It Relates To You. If You Had Asked Me To Marry You The Night You First Told Me About Your Acceptance, I Would Have Embraced Princeton As Part Of A Larger Plan That Involved Me. I Probably Would Have Reacted Differently. I Might Even Had Said Yes. Alas, You Didn't Ask Me Then. You Made Plans For Your Future Without Me In Mind, And That's Okay. But How Can You Now Ask Me To Arrange My Life Around You?

And Now, As I'm Lying Alone In My Own Bed, I Keep Thinking About Writhing Against Him Last Night, Naked And Vulnerable. Even After We'd Both Risen And Fallen, Peaked And Plummeted, Even After Marcus Was Physically Shrinking From Inside Me, I Couldn't Stop Clutching, Crying, Trying. Trying To Pull Him Deeper, Deeper, Deeper Within. Trying To Make Him More A Part Of Me Than I Am Myself.

I Knew, Deep Down, That Love, Though A Beautiful Beginning, Isn't Enough. It's The Practice Of Honoring And Caring For Another That's Noble, Not The Emotion Of Love Itself. The Emotion Is The Easy Part.