Nothing Like Being Scolded By A Hippie.

There Was No Short Answer To This; Like So Much Else, It Was A Long Story. But What Really Makes Any Story Real Is Knowing Someone Will Hear It. And Understand.

Morgan Sighed. "i," She Announced, "am So Pathetic." "you Are Not," I Said. "i Am." She Went Over And Straightened The Cling Wrap, Corner To Corner. "do You Know How Many Times I've Brought In Devilled Eggs? This Is, Like, The Only Time I Haven't Been Sobbing And That's Only 'cause I Cried All Night. And Norman," She Said, Her Voice Rising To A Wail, "sweet Norman, Always Just Acts So Surprised To See The Eggs, And Pleased, And He Never, Once, Has Ever Acted Like He Knew What They Meant."

But Anyone Can Begin. It Was The Part With All The Promise, The Potential, The Things I Loved. More And More, Though, I Was Finding Myself Wanting To Find Out What Happened In The End.

'so,' He Said As We Turned Onto The Main Road, The Muffler Rattling, 'i've Been Thinking.' 'yeah?' He Nodded. 'you Really Need To Go Out With Me.' I Blinked. 'i'm Sorry?' 'you Know. You, Me. A Restaurant Or Movie. Together.' He Glanced Over, Shifting Gears. 'maybe It's A New Concept For You? If So, I'll Be Happy To Walk You Through It.' 'you Want To Take Me To A Movie?' I Asked. 'well, Not Really,' He Said. 'what I Really Want Is For You To Be My Girlfriend. But I Though Saying That Might Scare You Off.'

If You Didn't Always Have To Choose Between Turning Away For Good Or Rushing In Deeper. In The Moments That It Really Counts, Maybe It's Enough - More Than Enough, Even - Just To Be There.