What I felt for you then--where do I put that? That we came to nothing, I have been able to put away, but what about all of the rest of it? The smallest things you ever said to me--always, they stayed longer. You said "the bee goes from flower to flower, selfishly devouring the pollen from each one, without ever knowing how much the flowers need him to survive." The future, my whole world, was one thing back then, and then suddenly, without notice, it was another. I have never made sense of it. How else is there to say this?