There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scornโthere are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you.
I love you," I whisper. "And I love you." He smiles, his lips seeking mine. "Always have. Always will.
Today's worries are yesterday's fears and tomorrow's stories.
You cannot outwalk your problems. Can never run fast enough to evade them completely.
Have I ever told you how much I love you, Ever? Have I? Ever, Ever?
You can't go back, Ever. You can't change the past. It just is." I squint, having no idea what she's talking about. But just as I start to ask,she shakes her head and says, "This is our destiny. Not yours.