We just finished talking on IM an hour ago and this is what I've been reduced to. Writing messages to a blank screen. Did you know that this is only the fourth time we've talked online in the months that we've known each other? Every occasion seems so full of promises that are never fulfilled. As usual, our conversation ended just as it was beginning. Why is it, that whenever the walls between us start to crumble, we are forced apart by some dangerous shut in with too much time on his hands? I love feeling that I may finally catch a true glimpse at your past; just the smallest glimmer of what made you the beautiful person that you are today, but I hate not being able to do so. Let me see over your wall. I promise I'll do everything I can not to hurt you. I just need to know that my hopes are not in vain. Give me even the slightest hint that my feelings are not just the product of wishcraft and I will be content. Hopefully one day I'll come out of our conversations with more answers than questions. Then again, these questions may be the very things which keep me in this painfully glorious state of perpetual anticipation.