"That ship has sailed," I told my friends. "What can I do about it? It was two years ago."

I was lying.

If there was the slightest damn hint that you would take me, I'd accept in a heartbeat.

I'd deal with the distance.

I'd deal with the asshat behavior.

I'm normally practical about this stuff, but you're it. You're the only person I want to pursue on this stupid planet.

And I feel it. Call me a dreamer, or naive, or infatuated.

There's going to be something. With you.

Not Joel.

You.