““Finding him has been the only thing for so long. Even without a map, even without the compass, I know I can do it. I've imagined the moment of meeting over and over again; how he'll pull me close, how I'll whisper a poem to him. The only flaw in my dream is that I haven't finished writing anything for him yet; I can never get the past the first line. I've written so many beginnings over the months out here and yet the middle and the end of our kind of love are things I haven't seen yet for myself.””
