I thought I wasn't ready for any of it, the dates (after the many I remember so vividly with her), and most of all the drama of it all but this time I was so very wrong.
"Ryan!"
That voice, the one belonging to the person that was responsible for me being able to sleep peacefully, (and more then three or four hours, at last) that was pulling me from my dreams of it itself because I knew that voice right away even with both eyes shut.
"Taylor, what is it?"
(this was one of many of these fun times when the bed bounced with her weight and she was what I woke to, and I loved each and every morning of this)
"This."
At that moment I was certain this was not a dream, or one of the many hallucinations I've had over the week about her, (and none of them were in the bit classy, no they were downright pervy) when her lips were all I could taste and think about.
"I love this."
(she, the one that I love, but don't say, not yet, isn't anything like her, the girl that hangs around like the ghost and memory she now is. But maybe that's why I love her, and love her I certainly do.)