The dark places of the mind are frightening. So much is happening, with Ron, with myself. I feel a different heart beating in me sometimes, one that speaks differently, hears differently. The stars move through the skies tonight, and I stand in the sacred pool and read their dreams of the past and that of what will come, trying to discern which path lay where and finding the inability to do so in some cases, as though my mind and the other mind cannot see with the other there. I am unable to open the lock, for the key lies elsewhere.
Ron's heart beats inside me, his feelings though . . . what are they? I love him. Mothers and Fathers how I love him. It's as though this love has been waiting inside me and the world for a millenia, growing and pressing and overflowing. I didn't know who it was that I was saving some time ago, and I wonder if it was Ron, if he saved me. If we were meant to meet a million minutes ago when I lay eyes on him in the car of the train, if then I should have seen what our future was, if there I should have walked over and kissed him.
I love him.