It is, as I feared, even more difficult to read my thoughts from the past than it is to read his. It is here about a month before the meeting in Louisville, and I am very anxious to see him. I am so very much in love with him, that I cannot for the life of me figure out what/when things changed. It is less than a year until I run away. But here, I can't say I love him enough.

I wonder if I ever really felt this way again. Or if I kept trying to feel this way again. Or if I kept pretending to feel this way again. This sounds so fresh and new and sincere, I can feel my heart beating still across the years.