Every question possesses a power often lost in the answer... - Unknown “Do you love me?” They are delicately spoken, gentle and tentative in their utterance. But words whose import nonetheless, carries like a gunshot - the bullet having shattered the glasshouse of her own crippling, internalised phobia, at long last. She waits, perfectly still, …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.