Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m losing myself.

Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear. 'I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.

We did not hope for the same things, but we all hoped.

He was right – she was beating herself up about hurting his feelings. The girl was a classic martyr. She’d totally been born in the wrong century. She should have lived back when she could have gotten herself fed to some lions for a good cause.

And then we continued blissfully into this small but perfect piece of our forever.

I wondered how long it could last. Maybe someday, years from now.If the pain would decrease to the point where I could bear it.I would be able to look back on those few short months that would always be the best of my life.

So what are you going to tell her?" "A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?" He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair." "No, you not sharing what you know-now that's not fair.