Her mind was a great expanse, a landscape not rivaled, Ridges and valleys, canyons cut deep. Roads and paths, some well-worn, some seldom traveled, others forgotten. He wanted to travel them all. To peer into every cleft, every cave, every swath and slot and scene. The darkest corners intrigued him most. What would he find? Would he like it? Would it change her? Would her perfect waist and shoulders and mouth fade behind the clearer projection of her real self? Is it selfish, selfish to explore someone so thoroughly, all the while keeping your own self obtuse and calculated. Too many questions. But she asked if he loved her; “Pete..do you love me“. To answer truly he must first know her…but perhaps he already did. Why did the question make him shift nervously and sweat? He did love her..but she’s a stranger…but she’s not. Maybe he’s the stranger?

Agh. So much introspective bullshit. It’s a simple yes or no question. It’s simple. It’s life. You love her. She’s “the one”. What was it, “just be” thats what Helen always said, “just be”. What does that mean? Something different for everyone? Probably. But that’s hopeful right?

“Another”? “What?…oh, sure…a double”.