It scares me. But then I get this big feeling, simple but exalted: He's like me, just with different details.

You will say good-bye for all the right reasons. You're tired of living in wait for his apocalypse. You have your own fight on your hands, and though it's no bigger or more noble than his, it will require all of your energy. It's you who has to hold on to earth. You have to tighten your grip -- which means letting go of him.

You don't need a reason to forgive... If you want to go on with someone, that is what you do.

You can feel that he wants to own you - not like an object but like a good dream he wants to keep having. He lets you know that you already own him.

But then you hear that he can't hear you, you see that he can't see you. You are not here--and you haven't even died yet. You see yourself through his eyes, as The Generic Woman, the skirted symbol on the ladies' room door.

You sense that he's dangerous but don't now why - and wonder if it's because he makes you feel safer than you've ever felt.

It scares me how fast I go from disliking to loving him, and I wonder if it’s this way for everyone.