When I wrote The Story of Her, I was hypomanic, and freely expressing my thoughts about a unique relationship. I decided at that point to honor the time and space I am in now, and just think about my situation, and if I needed anything more. I decided that I do not. I am happy with my life as it is, with no need for more, but I contemplate just one wish. I would like for her to come visit me on my death bed. I could be all wrong, and it might never cross my mind. I think I would at least like a proper goodbye at some point in this life, since we never had one and we were, at one point, the best of friends.

Perhaps that is why I so dearly love the movie The Hours, as it deals with the choices made in younger years, and how one comes to deal with those life altering choices when they are older. For some, the choice is detrimental to their happiness, but for others there is hope that lingers around the edges of their frazzled nerves.