index | archives | notes | reviews | FAQ Thursday, Feb. 14, 2008 | 5:36 p.m. [Begging the Question] On the couch, somewhere in the area of two thirty in the morning, he's somewhere in the area of inside me. Everything is dark and strobing, and I've spent the whole night with him in my lap, whispering to girlfriends that it's not fair, I'm still dreaming about people I never had and I'm supposed to dedicate myself to one person? "He loves you unconditionally," she says, and I'm saying No Way, Can't Be, Never Going to Happen. And two thirty in the morning that's what he says, too, from nowhere. "I love you." I stop. "What?" "I love you." "Say it again." "I love you." "And again." "I love you." "Again." "I love you." << | N | >> whatiscopyright.org