You’d Think That Silence Would Be Peaceful.

It Doesn't Have To Be On Valentine's Day. It Doesn't Have To Be By The Time You Turn Eighteen Or Thirty-three Or Fifty-nine. It Doesn't Have To Conform To Whatever Is Usual. It Doesn't Have To Be Kismet At Once, Or Rhapsody By The Third Date. It Just Has To Be. In Time. In Place. In Spirit. It Just Has To Be.

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.

A Year. A Thousand Kisses. And Now A Thousand One, A Thousand Two. There Are So Many Other Place We Could Have Ended Up, But I Have To Believe None Of Them Would Have Felt This Right. "all I Want Is You" Is Not Entirely True. I Want So Much More, And With You I Think I Can Get It.

Sometimes The Space Between Knowing What To Do And Actually Doing It Is A Very Short Walk. Other Times It Is An Impossible Expanse.

I Know There Are Epic Tales Of Romance, Where Love Means You're Supposed To Die. Where It's All About Sacrifice. But I Don't Want To Die. I Don't Want Stephen To Die. I'm Looking For The Scenario Where We Both Get To Live. Where We Can Continue This Marvel That Is Love And Discovery And Trust.