You know how I keep my journals. How they are unscripted and unedited.

It's that time of day When the evening sun pours in Silhouetting you with a golden halo What a happy, tragic accident

"I'm a pretty passionate person," I said, mouth in a twist, "about...most things."

I don't know what I'd do without you...

You're always on my mind, which is a dangerous place to be.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?"

It was as though you had been compelled to do it, that the moment your skin made contact with mine, you weren't in control of yourself anymore.

Why are you standing so close? You've never done this before. You always have kept a professional distance between us. Why now are you so close? Too close.

I'm a good liar. You've even told me so. But it is a cage to feel that I have to hide from you. You as my confidant. You as my hero. You as my obsession.

I doubt it would have been healthy to begin a relationship fantasizing about someone else. I doubt it would have been healthy for me to feed my obsession like this.

I can only assume it is beyond normal bounds of a patient/therapist relationship. Then again, maybe so are many things we do.

My heart pounded. I could feel heat rising in my face and hoped to God you didn't notice. Anywhere? But how far is too far?

"What if I told you I love you?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. The words slipped out unrestrained. I waited with bated breath for your response.

The sun was setting over the buildings in Downtown. A perfect fleck of the sun's last encore got caught in your eye. You are stunning...

It is confusing and not always romantic, but always overwhelming. Saying it to the void is no longer satisfying.