I hate the not knowing. It's all so up in the air. It grows deeper though. Fragments of him were always here in still and moving pictures, trapped to prove that this isn't just a straight one-to-one. I don't know what will happen when the old collides with the new. It'd be easier if I hadn't gone and done the thing with the "feelings" and the inadvertent trading of my heart for my mothers fabled magic beans (again). I'd be easier if he weren't also the person I am in my secret, devious heart.
