But all those years ago, when the hormones were still driving me, I was always looking for that angle of attack. To crash and burn all those many times for the few where I could strike home. Back when I was still swimming in the currents of the unpossessed, before any sort of madness had claim to my being. And there was her, the sweet eclectic elf, when I knew so much more than I do now, when I thought I knew it all, even as I claimed to be seeking the very nature of my own self. But truly, if I knew love, I may not have been that far off in my braggadocio. Maybe to know less is to know more, if one is very careful, or very lucky. Myself, I think not the fates were so kind as to leave me in blissful ignorance. Life did not end the night when I had that magical kiss of story and song. What would the tragedy be, I casually wonder, that it continued, or really, if it had ended, just then?
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