“It’s like he has these moments where he just captures me in his snare and I can’t see around me. Tunnel vision. I’ll call it the Ian tunnel effect since it hinders me at the greatest of moments when I should be focused elsewhere.”

“There is no doubt that I have lots of words inside me; but at moments, like rush-hour traffic at the mouth of a tunnel, they jam.”

“I dream in tunnel vision, I think. I remember in tunnel vision, I think. The question remains, when my tunnel vision goes, as it will very soon, what will I remember seeing? How will I remember?All I can do is write it down and keep writing. How else can I hold this picture, this life, or this face together? The view from here is of a boy with a softball, ready to let it go. His is an ironic gift from the past, as if the young me is aiming at the old, saying, "Here, buddy, let me help you with that." I wanted to let the ball fly at my lens, whatever was left of it.”

“In the next moment he was behind me, crossing his arms around my middle. “I go where you go.”

“When my whole body is pushed against his, I wrap my legs around his waist, forcing him to carry me the way my heart had been carrying HIM since the moment he saw me.”

“Jack,do me a favor?" I said."Anything,Becks.""Don't let go of my hand. And if the Tunnels come for me,don't let go until the last moment.""If the Tunnels come for you,I'll hold on, and they won't be able to take you."I smiled at the sentiment, even though I knew that no one would be able to hold on.”