He Always Loved Her Because

Every Day, I Live A Lie But Not The Crocodile Kind.

I Thought Marcus Was Going To Be In My Life Forever. Then I Thought I Was Wrong. Now He’s Back. But This Time I Know What’s Certain: Marcus Will Be Gone Again, And Back Again And Again And Again Because Nothing Is Permanent. Especially People. Strangers Become Friends. Friends Become Lovers. Lovers Become Strangers. Strangers Become Friends Once More, And Over And Over. Tomorrow, Next Week, Fifty Years From Now, I Know I’ll Get Another One-word Postcard From Marcus, Because This One Doesn’t Have A Period Signifying The End Of The Sentence. Or The End Of Anything At All.

That's What All Love Comes Down To, Doesn't It? We Help Others Only As Much As They Let Us.

The Road Less Traveled Will Not Be Smooth

Excuse Our Appearances. We Are Taking Apart Yesterday, To Make Way For Tomorrow