Your Hair Looks Like A

My First Feeling Was That There Was No Way To Continue. Writing Isn't Like Math;in Math, Two Plus Two Always Equals Four No Matter What Your Mood Is Like. With Writing, The Way You Feel Changes Everything.

Bring On The Shackles - I'm Your Prisoner

You Want Me To Be All Doom And Gloom, Or Just Shut Up?

Can't You Just Thank Me And Get Over It?" "thank You." I Waited, Fuming And Expectant. "you're Not Going To Let It Go, Are You?" "no." "in That Case . . . I Hope You Enjoy Disappointment." We Scowled At Each Other In Silence. I Was The First To Speak, Trying To Keep Myself Focused. I Was In Danger Of Being Distracted By His Livid, Glorious Face. It Was Like Trying To Stare Down A Destroying Angel. "why Did You Even Bother?" I Asked Frigidly. He Paused, And For A Brief Moment His Stunning Face Was Unexpectedly Vulnerable. "i Don't Know," He Whispered.

I'd Never Seen Anything More Beautiful - Even As I Ran, Gasping And Screaming, I Could Appreciate That. And The Last Seven Months Meant Nothing. And His Words In The Forest Meant Nothing. And It Did Not Matter If He Did Not Want Me. I Would Never Want Anything But Him, No Matter How Long I Lived.