“But I can’t help myself. And there he is, larger thanlife on the screen, looking every bit as tortured and handsomeas he did the last time he tried to contact me a fewweeks ago. (Harmony/Jondoe)”

“I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.”

“Let me go.” “I can’t”, he said hoarsely, (…)” I’ve tried a hundred times to let you go, Victoria, but I can’t.”

“He was his usual philosophic self and tried very hard to explain to me that although life was stained with agony, this was necessary. That scars only concealed, and finally helped to reveal, an essential peace. He said that what we, who pass so swiftly, experience as songs of love or cries of pain are only overtones to a single note in a very much larger harmony.”

“I stared at him. Did he really say that? Did he remember? The way he looked back at me, one eyebrow raised, I knew he did. And this time, I was the one to look away.Because I remembered. I remembered everything.”

“It’s the way he had a cup of tea waiting for me when I woke up. It’s the way he turned on his laptop especially for me to look up all my Internet horoscopes and helped me choose the best one. He knows all the crappy, embarrassing bits about me that I normally try to hide from any man for as long as possible… and he loves me anyway.”