Walking by the stacks I idly run my hand across the titles, hoping my finger will catch on some great trove of wisdom, the sort of thing that would enlighten me and deliver me from heartache. In that instant I will know what to buy, no insecurity or second-guessing. You've seen me do this, remember? I don't know if you remember. I remember everything about you.

I once read a book wherein the heroine did the same thing, ran her fingers along the tops of books in the library, and became powerful. It was called So You Want To Be A Wizard. It is chimerical to think I have that same capacity, of course, but I do it again and again.

I chase after you anyway. I do it again and again.