And There Are Never Really Endings, Happy

He Reads Histories And Mythologies And Fairy Tales, Wondering Why It Seems That Only Girls Are Ever Swept Away From Their Mundane Lives On Farms By Knights Or Princes Or Wolves. It Strikes Him As Unfair To Not Have The Same Fanciful Opportunity Himself. And He Is Not In The Position To Do Any Rescuing Of His Own.

They Say It's Darkest Before The Dawn, But It Also Tend To Be Quietest, And The Quiet Lets You Hear Yourself Better.

Marco Knows He Does Not Have The Time To Push Her Away, So He Pulls Her Close, Burying His Face In Her Hair, His Bowler Hat Torn From His Head By The Wind...."trust Me," Celia Whispers In His Ear, And He Stops Fighting It, Forgetting Everything But Her.

I Have Tried To Let You Go And I Cannot. I Cannot Stop Thinking Of You. I Cannot Stop Dreaming About You.

Something About The Circus Stirs Their Souls, And They Ache For It When It Is Absent.