I ask, as though I can pretend I hadn't thought the same. To be in a crowd, to turn and see you in a parting of bodies like water. I've been thinking all this time of what I would say to you, of whether I would take your hand. I'll confess to you that I'm oftentimes imaginative, and in one or ten of these hypotheticals, the meeting took on a very cinematic nature, accompanied by a soundtrack. One of the composers you mentioned before. Or a blues strain.
(I'll leave you to draw conclusions on your own about how I greeted you then.)
My romantic notions didn't involve an interruption to our meeting at all, much less by - Well.
It's a disappointment.
Less so with this new possibility. I do want you to myself, for many reasons. We all act differently in a crowd of known faces, isn't that so? And conversation would be difficult. Of course, I mean nothing untoward! I won't invite you to my room or sequester us in some shadowy corner.
How fortunate I'd be to have a few precious moments apart with you.
[...]
I suppose if any text might damn me should she read it, this would be the one. I still mean not to be caught in breach of that contract, but what can be done about maybe-wishful thinking?
It's still only that. What I would like, what I dream, how [...] a single word wakened my heart in a way little else has. 'Romantic'.
(And 'my', echoing 'my'. Yes, Vevay, I think I am that in a way I have been for no one else.)
[...]
An offer - one which you might not need, but which I feel is only right. Please, at some time in New York, let me show you the divorce papers. Let me give you evidence that I'm being truthful about my situation.
If you mean to wait, then you should be sure of my intentions.
[...]
You asked early on in our conversations to say what I want.
I want my son.
Oh, Nova - I want you, too.
More than either, I want to be the kind of man who would do anything for those he l you both.
1/2
[...]
I ask, as though I can pretend I hadn't thought the same. To be in a crowd, to turn and see you in a parting of bodies like water. I've been thinking all this time of what I would say to you, of whether I would take your hand. I'll confess to you that I'm oftentimes imaginative, and in one or ten of these hypotheticals, the meeting took on a very cinematic nature, accompanied by a soundtrack. One of the composers you mentioned before. Or a blues strain.
(I'll leave you to draw conclusions on your own about how I greeted you then.)
My romantic notions didn't involve an interruption to our meeting at all, much less by - Well.
It's a disappointment.
Less so with this new possibility. I do want you to myself, for many reasons. We all act differently in a crowd of known faces, isn't that so? And conversation would be difficult. Of course, I mean nothing untoward! I won't invite you to my room or sequester us in some shadowy corner.
How fortunate I'd be to have a few precious moments apart with you.
[...]
I suppose if any text might damn me should she read it, this would be the one. I still mean not to be caught in breach of that contract, but what can be done about maybe-wishful thinking?
It's still only that. What I would like, what I dream, how [...] a single word wakened my heart in a way little else has. 'Romantic'.
(And 'my', echoing 'my'. Yes, Vevay, I think I am that in a way I have been for no one else.)
[...]
An offer - one which you might not need, but which I feel is only right. Please, at some time in New York, let me show you the divorce papers. Let me give you evidence that I'm being truthful about my situation.
If you mean to wait, then you should be sure of my intentions.
[...]
You asked early on in our conversations to say what I want.
I want my son.
Oh, Nova - I want you, too.
More than either, I want to be the kind of man who would do anything for
those he lyou both.