I Only Have Eyes For You.

In School, The Year Was The Marker. Fifth Grade. Senior Year Of High School. Sophomore Year Of College. Then After, The Jobs Were The Marker. That Office. This Desk. But Now That School Is Over And I've Been Working At The Same Place In The Same Office At The Same Desk For Longer Than I Can Truly Believe, I Realize: You Have Become The Marker. This Is Your Era. And It's Only If It Goes On And On That Will Have To Look For Other Ways To Identify The Time.

And I, Who Have Never Thought In Terms Of A Life, Think To Myself That I Could Make A Life Out Of This.

After Working For So Long On Being Sure Of Each Other, Sure Of This Thing, Suddenly We Were Unsure Again.

I Find Faith In Human Perseverance, Even As The Universe Throws Challenge After Challenge Our Way.

For The First Time In My Life I Realize Why Hangers Are Called Hangers, Because After Fifteen Minutes Of Trying Things On And Throwing Them Aside, All I Want To Do Is Hook One To The Top Of My Closet Door, Lean My Neck Into The Loop, And Let My Weight Fall.