I Knew I Would Be

Because If She Let Go Of Her Grief Even For A Minute It Would Only Hit Her Harder When She Bumped Into It Again.

I Despised Their Antics Because I Took Life Seriously And Had A Much More Lofty And Tender Notion Of Romance. But I Would Have Liked To Get Their Attention Just The Same.

For Years And Years I Thought That Stories Were Just Practice, Till I Got Time To Write A Novel.

Usually, I Have A Lot Of Acquaintance With The Story Before I Start Writing It. When I Didn't Have Regular Time To Give To Writing, Stories Would Just Be Working In My Head For So Long That When I Started To Write I Was Deep Into Them. Now, I Do That Work By Filling Notebooks.

I Just Believed It Easily, The Way You Might Believe And In Fact Remember That You Once Had Another Set Of Teeth, Now Vanished But Real In Spite Of That. Until One Day, One Day When I May Even Have Been In My Teens, I Knew With A Dim Sort Of Hole In My Insides That Now I Didn't Believe It Anymore.