sometimes, how a situation is perceived carries more weight than the reality of the matter.

Every moment was a before and an after. Every moment was a now to be lived.

His breath in my ear, he ran his tongue along the curved edge, sucking the fleshy lobe and my small diamond stud into his mouth, and my eyes drifted closed while I babbled a weak sound of longing.

That's how they say it: He loves you in his own way. Well, what about my way? What if I need for him to love me in my way?

I used to think of two people in love like that. Like puzzle pieces, fitting together. But it's not like that at all. Love pulls a part of you out, and it pulls a part of him - like taffy, stretching but not separating. The tendrils of each one wrap around the other, until they meld together. One, but not quite. Separate, but not quite.

Graham runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Finally, with a determined scowl, he crosses the room. His hands grip my shoulders. “We are not,” his voice is a gentle tremor, “breaking up

ME: You 're a sick girl. ERIN: Guilty as charged. :)