This isn’t happening. It is not supposed to happen. You and I are standing by ourselves within 2 or 3 feet from one another. We don’t dare to get close. We feel, but we shouldn’t feel. I don’t dare walk to where you are. I could pretend that I need to ask you something, but if I do, my eyes would tell you things you don’t want to know. There is no one. You are the dream of my life. There is no other.