Why is it that when life reaches cozy perfection, disasters are most likely to strike? Instead of the cuddly evening I had envisioned with Christopher, tonight is just plain uncomfortable. With the exception of the few days after his shadowy groupie left him an enticing note and he was annoyed, he's been slightly uncomfortable since New Year’s Eve. I don't know if the problem lies with me, events back home, or struggles with his evolving emotions. Whatever it is, I have the overwhelming feeling it's something over which I'd rather stay in the dark.

Often it seems he is about to finally confess his woes but words fail him. Just like now, his speech always begins the same way: “Lilyanna, do you remember on New Year’s Eve when I came back from Manchester and got all sentimental at your house? There's something I really need to tell you, although maybe you figured it out that night and that's why you left.”