These Words Are Now Mine, But Soon

Every You, Every Me. Fractals. Fractures.

Its A Fine Line Between Love And Stalking.

There Is No Word For The Recipient Of The Love. There Is Only A Word For The Giver. There Is The Assumption That Lovers Come In Pairs.

I See Nick's Number. I Debate Whether To Assign A Name To His Number. If I Commit To That, Then I Will Truly Be Heartbroken If He Never Calls Me Again; My Heart Will Knot Each And Every Time I Use This Phone And See His Name In There. I Would Probably End Up Having To Trash The Phone Entirely.

I Was Horribly Bookish, To The Point Of Coming Right Out And Saying It, Which I Knew Was Not Socially Acceptable. I Particularly Loved The Adjective Bookish, Which I Found Other People Used About As Often As Ramrod Or Chum Or Teetotaler.