You and I are meant to be. It's the only thing I'm absolutely sure of. And while I have no idea what to expect, I promise I'll do whatever it takes to find my way back.

You left me." Not realizing until I've said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he's not referring to the past. He's prophesying our future.

Remember when you picked me up like a frisbee and tossed me across you yard?

Six hundred years is an awfully long time, Ever. So long it's impossible for either of us to imagine. Though it is more than enough time to rack up a few dirty skeletons for the old metaphorical closet, right?

I mean, yeah, maybe our fate is sometimes fixed and unchangeable, but there are other times when its shaped purely by the actions we take.

Maybe." I shrug. "But what I meant was, can't you use the makeup to cover it?" Miles rolls his eyes and scowls. "Oh, so I can sport a huge flesh-colored beacon instead? Would you look at this thing? There's no disguising it. It's got it's own DNA! It's casting shadows!

And while I'm sure you feel that your particular mistake is extraordinarily big, insurmountable even, contrary to what you might think, these types of things can always be undone, and oftentimes aren't nearily as lethal as we think—or, should I say, as we allow them to be.