As If It Didnt Matter What Was

All I'd Ever Wanted Was To Forget. But Even When I Thought I Had, Pieces Had Kept Emerging, Like Bits Of Wood Floating Up To The Surface That Only Hint At The Shipwreck Below.

As I Rolled Over, Stretching Out, My Only Thought Was To Go Back To The Dream I'd Been Having, Which I Couldn't Remember, Other Than That It Had Been Good, In That Distant, Hopeful Way Unreal Things Can Be.

Morris Was Not The Type To Offer A Hug Or Even Hold Your Hand. But There Was Something In His Quiet Indignation At The Universe Then--and Luke, Now--that Was Just The Kind Of Comfort I Needed. "i'm Such A Mess," I Said. "we're Almost Off The Island And I Didn't Even Ask You Where You Were Going." He Shrugged. "no Place. Wherever You Are.

And No Relationship Is Perfect, Ever. There Are Always Some Ways You Have To Bend, To Compromise, To Give Something Up In Order To Gain Something Greater.

From This Distance, In The Dimness, The Model Looked Surreal, Made Up Of Parts Filled With Buildings, Bordered By Long Stretches Of Empty Space. It Reminded Me Of The Way Cities And Towns Look When You Are Flying At Night. You Can't Make Out Much. But The Places Where People Have Come Together, And Stayed, Are Collections Of Tiny Lights, Breaking Up The Darkness.