if ever there was a doubt

my love she leans into me

this most assuredly counts

she says most assuredly

Yumi found herself too young and unlived to know acceptance. There was nothing more marvelous, more keenly gossamer than complacency. when was she was a little girl, she thought that love was so fantastically blinding, bigger than the world, irrefutable, incorrigible. That it was like black, that it drew from every color until it was nothing, imperceptible and untouchable. That it was the most righteous justice, and it was forever. Through the vivid and often inglorious scenes of her childhood, her visions of love were radicalized and revolutionized until she found it incomprehensible and beyond her reach. Yumi ultimately reasoned that she was not made for it, and that it was not made for her. That she was too hard, too firm, too set in her ways.

She now understood that she did not understand love. Through the imitation of life taught by television, she had mimicked emotion and consistency. Inside, she was withdrawn, pragmatic, delighting in that she saw her heart as it was, ugly muscle, and filled each chamber with mathematics and statistics. Yumi shed the skin of her childhood and loved what could not love, what could not love her or stop loving her. She threw herself into literature and art; music filled her elementary education and data the tender years of her secondary.

Her hair was cut, black and slick against her skull. She dominated herself and her world. She felt power and slept, dreaming of it and grieving, always grieving, for what she had lost - was losing. And it was the sleep of dogs - that imperceptible sadness that never could find a name because it never saw color.

and then -

then, there is a memory :

Actually, not memory, because Ulrich bled through her fingers like colored water, and it wasn't until months that she realized she ought to remember, she ought to have paid attention. That Ulrich was,

that he was --

it was the grandest frustration to try to define Ulrich. He was unplanned, uninvited, and uncontrollable.

and that was what intrigued her about him, what drew her to him. She denied herself the pleasure of openly admitting that it was because of it that she liked him and the arrogance of her youth manifested in thinking that she could somehow - that she had already evaded whatever Ulrich was. That she had sidestepped whatever he had done - was doing. That she was greater, more intelligent, cleverer, quicker. Yumi's mistake was in trying to outwit her own humanity.

Actually, her mistake was letting him follow her home, but Yumi sincerely doubted that it would have mattered if she had consciously made that choice or not, because somehow he would rearrange time and life to reconnect at some point with her, to hopelessly tangle her life in his.

And why he did it she would never know. It was the same vein that art was made from, and it was inexplicable.

In any case, while Yumi found love to be something quite different than what she had supposed in her infancy and reinvented in her adolescent years, she still found one consistency that appealed to her with a force that she could not control, could not deny.

It was bigger than the world, and it was bigger than her.

--

"So she said yes?"

Aelita looked so tender, so sweetly young that Jeremie could not help himself and he kissed her hair, combing it with his long, knowing fingers.

"Actually, she said no."

--

Thinking about herself and what she did and why she did it always irritated Yumi because she could never reach a sure conclusion. She briefly considered semantics and rolled her tongue around syllables, wondering about fate and destiny and all the idealistic reasoning she --

covered her ears, she did not want to hear and Ulrich was prying - prying, her hands from her ears and she was crying, crying like the little girl she never was.

tapered down. Most of that afternoon was gone from her memory. One thing that obstinately remained was the tragedy of running into Jeremie as she stumbled out of the door. His eyes were ink, colorless and intimate, laced with something heavy and warm, like poison.

it was the look of someone who knew they had won and there was an absence of pleasure in that winning, and all that remained was the sickening feeling of having seen the burning before the star.

--

"I don't understand," Aelita wrinkled her nose, as to illustrate her confusion.

she smelled like perfumed water and frost. Jeremie fumbled for a way to paint the thrilling sadness that had transpired and resented the limitations of language. "Aelita, do you remember the tale we once heard, a very long time ago, the one about the mermaid?"

"Yes," Aelita supplied disdainfully. "The mermaid ends up dying and turning into sea foam, and then since that ending sucked so badly, Hans Christian Andersen decided to make her spirit rise from the foam and become an air spirit or something. That ending sucked even more than the original, if you ask me, because at least the original was believable. And then Disney had to muck it all up..."

she was doing it again and Jeremie sighed, touched her blushed cheeks with patience. He was beginning to doubt that Aelita would ever outgrow her fierce belief in static and stable behavior, a connotation associated with childhood. Still, her vivacity never fell short of charming him and he smiled.

"Yes, but you're missing the point. The point is, the mermaid's spirit rose from the foam because of her good intentions. And even though she didn't marry the prince, she was able to become something more, and ascend to heaven."

Aelita waved his patience away with her own impatience. "Yeah, yeah, I know the story. I just don't see its relevance."

Jeremie twined his fingers together, and rested his chin there. "No, but Yumi did."

--

except fairytales are fallacies and Yumi understood that once she denied everything Ulrich stood for by refusing his undiluted want and need of her, her world would come asunder like stained glass windows in cathedral.

that didn't stop her from saying no - it actually reinforced the strange, divine and misguided belief that consumed and moved her. Life became very inconspicuous once she left that hospital. Yumi found the kinetic comfort of walking with strangers who could not know her secrets.

She walked a very long time, stopped - and thought this house is not home, and in that moment, knew herself completely and absolutely, for the stray that she was. Yumi crumpled into her bathtub, desperately filling it with water as she folded underneath the weight of having lost the only man who had seen through her better than she ever could have, and never resented her for her resentment.

--

"Can you pick another story? I don't like this parallel."

"No."

"Jeremie, I waited a whole day for you to come back and tell me what happened because I was forced to return early because of that minor detail, that my over seers could have easily taken care of..."

"That minor detail, as you so eloquently put it, was the explosion of one of your warehouses."

"It's a computer warehouse, there are bound to be some casualties," Aelita pouted inconclusively. Jeremie was obviously displeased that she was minimizing an event that caused her millions of dollars and would have cost her thousands of workers if it had occurred at a more inopportune time.

Strategically, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled her to him, effectively crushing his lips with her own. Jeremie knew this kiss to be one of her indolent cover ups when she neither wanted to admit to fault or displease him. Still, he really could not resist her.

He gripped her shoulders and said,

"Now, do you want me to finish telling you the story or not?"

What he meant to say was; Aelita, you can't have it both ways.

"Yes!" Aelita exclaimed, cheered up by the prospect.

"Alright, well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted..."

"Hey, I don't call being kissed by a fantastically pretty and super intelligent girl --"

"Aelita."

"Oh alright, have it your way. I'll shut up now. Go on, what happened next?"

--

to avoid having to thumb through her memory, Yumi simply labeled that afternoon as the incident, and referred to it as one might a documentary or some great tragedy that one had heard but could never accurately exhibit the adequate emotion for the lack of the actual experience.

everything was about isolation and alienation. Yumi had the very intent of removing herself so far from the incident that it would no longer pertain to her, but to someone else, and she would sympathetically nod to its memory with the grace of someone who knows social etiquette, but would not feel anything real or definite.

she had to suffer. Things like the incident were like fevers, you had to sweat them out with suffering. This presented a problem because Yumi was under the impression that she had suffered enough. She was also under the impression that she wasn't getting anywhere with her flawed logic. Surprisingly, the answer came in the form of the problem.

Yumi had made a point to never ever go anywhere near anything or anyone that reminded her of him. She kept him nameless in her thoughts because it would hurt otherwise and that would provoke connotations of caring and that was in direct opposition to her plan.

See, logic always saved her. It was the only thing she could hold on to.

It was unbelievably cold and Yumi was starving, for the lack of a better word. She stupidly left her apartment to go run errands and the bus had been almost a half an hour late, and then she was late to catch her second bus, which delayed her another hour. It was three in the afternoon and she hadn't eaten a single thing, and the only feasible place to eat in walking distance was that damned bakery.

It was just like Fate to fuck her over like this.

--

"Oh," Aelita chewed on her lower lip. "I always did think of Yumi as more of an Austen girl."

"That's funny," Jeremie's tone was humorless. "I always thought of her as an Ophelia girl."

Aelita was taken aback, "I don't see how."

"Ophelia, if you remember correctly, completely self destructed after Hamlet refused her."

"Yes," Aelita smarted, annoyed. "Is this an English class? I remember my classics well, thank you very much. Besides Yumi isn't subservient like Shakespeare's girls. She's strong willed and incredibly stubborn. She doesn't let other people shape her life."

Jeremie had perfected the art of ignoring her outbursts. He had a tremendous urge to correct her about Yumi not letting other people shape her life, but dismissed the want as petty. When she was done, he continued.

"While Yumi didn't commit suicide, she did the next best thing."

"Which was?"

"She tried to kill Ulrich."

--

From the moment Yumi entered the bakery and heard the bells chiming her arrival, she knew she had made a mistake. The next staple of this assertion was the face of the receptionist.

She tried to turn around and die of starvation without protest, but the receptionist wasn't having it.

"Oh come on," she ushered Yumi to a table. "I haven't seen you in like forever and a day and you suddenly want to leave. What have I ever done to you, huh? Huh???"

This was when Yumi became absolutely sure that this girl was completely crazy.

"I just realized I have a class I'm late to..."

"Bullshit, now what would you like to order?"

"Can't you get fired for being rude?"

"Probably," the receptionist grinned. "The probability of that would be loads and heaps higher if I wasn't the owner."

Yumi died a little inside. "...what?"

"Well you would have known if you would have asked like a normal, friendly person, but you're always in a rush. I can't blame you, though. It must be hard work juggling all those boyfriends of yours..." She trailed off suggestively. The girl was obviously a gossip whore.

Yumi ignored her. "Can I get --"

"The usual?"

"No, no," Yumi shook her head. "I want... something different."

"Why?" the girl asked, obviously surprised.

Yumi wanted to say; because I'm different now, but kept her lips suture shut because she knew it to be a lie.

--

"It's called a metaphor."

Aelita punched Jeremie in the arm, frowning. "No, it's called you being an asshole."

Jeremie sighed, "I don't see why I even bother..."

"Because," Aelita drawled. "How could you ever resist this face?" She pouted outrageously.

"Easily."

Aelita rolled her eyes. "I'm dying to know how it ends. You know I haven't heard word from Ulrich or Odd. I feel like I'm blindfolded and being the first and foremost to try to get Yumi and Ulrich together, I should have first dibs on any and all news. This is an obvious injustice."

"The only injustice here is how much you talk. Are you going to let me finish or not?"

Aelita was positively sullen. She hated being snubbed.

"Yes, but before you go on, I want to know... Does this story have a happy ending or not?"

Jeremie gave her question serious consideration. Then he smiled, and this was his real smile. Aelita knew it because she had known it before there was ever a fake smile.

"I'd like to think that there wasn't an ending at all."

--

Since it was obvious that the girl wasn't going anywhere, Yumi resigned herself.

"So, what's your name?"

"Oh," the girl looked thoughtful. "I could have sworn I told you..."

"No," Yumi communicated. Mainly because she was trying to run away from her at any and every given chance, though Yumi failed to mention this.

"Oh," the girl laughed. "LeDuc. My name is Emilie LeDuc."

--

"What was Ulrich doing during all this time?"

Jeremie frowned, "Drinking himself into oblivion."

"I'm going to kill him!" Aelita exclaimed self righteously. "He promised he'd never drink after Kadic."

"I never said he was drinking alcohol, though the poor man did try..."

"What?" Aelita was confused.

"Odd emptied out all his liquor bottles and filled them up with soda. I took care of the rest."

"You didn't." Aelita stared at Jeremie, suitably amused and reminded of why she couldn't part from him. "You did!"

"If the question you are asking is if I paid off every single bar in New York City and the local liquor venders, then the answer is yes. Not that it mattered. That was just the backup plan."

"What was the first plan?"

Jeremie smiled, but this was his planning smile. It was the kind that made you glad to be on his side. "The original plan was that Ulrich was, under no circumstances, to leave his apartment until his flight to Germany."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I didn't. Two body guards did an admirable job, however."

"Oh poor Ulrich," Aelita laughed. "He probably hates you."

Jeremie shrugged his shoulders. "Tell me something I don't know."

--

"So what happened to your boyfriend, you know, the nice one?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because," Yumi paused. "Because, I want to forget him."

"But why?" Emilie had a look of consternation on her face. "You guys looked so happy together."

This statement nearly drove Yumi to pieces. She recollected herself.

"We were," Yumi admitted to Emilie, and herself. "I just ..."

"Yes?"

"I just..."

"Yes?"

"I didn't want to compromise who I was."

"And who are you?"

Yumi was momentarily shocked by the question, more so by her answer.

"I... I don't know."

--

"Ulrich goes to Germany tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes, he has a meeting with the board of directors the next morning."

Aelita was thoroughly preoccupied. "But won't he be suffering from jet lag?"

"At this point, I don't think he can suffer from much else. He's trying to move on with his life as quickly as possible."

"In other words, he's doing the same thing Yumi is."

Jeremie nodded.

Aelita smiled brightly, "They are perfect for each other."

"No," Jeremie replied, almost as an afterthought. "They are imperfect for each other."

--

"That sounds like a pretty dumb reason not to accept."

Yumi marveled at how things could be simplified by an unbiased conclusion.

"Yeah, well I had other reasons."

"Oh really," Emilie inquired. "Such as?"

"I go to school here, my entire life is here."

"Sounds to me like your entire life is going to be in Germany."

Yumi sighed, frustrated. "What are you talking about? How do you know?"

"It's pretty obvious that you're in love with him," Emilie folded napkins to keep her hands busy.

Yumi narrowed her eyes. She had avoided that thought for nearly a week now. All that hard work in vain.

"Define obvious."

Emilie sighed, as if it was so very matter of fact that it was a burden to explain.

"Why else would you have bothered? I mean, according to what you've told me, you've gone through a whole lot of trouble to escape him."

Yumi wasn't sure of anything anymore. Her defenses were winding down, exhausted. "Why do you think that is?"

Emilie shrugged. "Beats me. I'm guessing it's because you actually want to go."

Yumi didn't like this strain of logic. She had to pursue it, she had to know.

"Why?"

"I mean, it seems like you can't explain why you don't want to go but it's pretty clear why you do want to go. Not sure about you, but that has to count for something."

--

"How is it that you know all of this, anyway?"

Jeremie assumed his thoughtful stance again.

"Well," he tried to remember why he had done what he did, but it wasn't coming to him. Perhaps that was because he usually got rid of useless information after it had served its purpose. "I still had a few hours before I came here, as you know. With nothing particularly to do, I went to do what you couldn't do - meddle."

"How charming," Aelita said dryly. The thinly veiled insult amused her and not in a good way. "So you went to see Yumi."

"How clever you are," Jeremie smiled. "Can you guess what I did next?"

"Well, you are acting in my stead, right?"

Jeremie nodded.

"What would I do..." Aelita thought out loud. "Oh! Jeremie," her eyes were shinning, undiluted by propriety. "Tell me that you did what I think you did."

"I had a very interesting run in with an old friend before I could visit Yumi."

"Who?"

"You don't know her," at the mention of this friend being a 'her', Aelita narrowed her eyes. This flattered Jeremie infinitesimally. "Her name is Taelia and she is a pilot."

--

Yumi was disturbed by what had transpired in the bakery and without eating much of anything, much to Emilie's reprise, she left. It was freezing outside, but that could have been blamed on that her hands had turned quite cold at the realization that she had no idea what she was doing except leading herself into a great failure.

and that she had lost everything. Yumi had thought that she really couldn't have had more of a downfall, but here it was. She walked back to her apartment, frustrated and lost. She wasn't sure what to think or how to deal. Her plan was falling apart before her eyes, or maybe that was just her.

One thing that Yumi rapidly realized when she reached her apartment was that she could see the light was on. This was a bit unnerving, because she always turned off the lights before she left. It was part of her frugal ideology. She readied herself for an intruder as she twisted the knob experimentally. It was unlocked. Tense, Yumi opened the door, wincing at the creak it made as it swung open.

Inside, sitting on her couch as if he had belonged there and she was visiting, was Jeremie.

--

"You broke into her house!" Aelita was scandalized but couldn't help but laugh.

"I did not break into her house," Jeremie defended himself candidly. "I paid someone to break in for me. There is quite a difference."

"You and your silly money," Aelita chastised. "Such a waste."

Jeremie raised an eyebrow. "I am going to ignore what a hypocrite you are being when you throw your money left and right on materialistic, useless things."

"Ha," Aelita countered. "I didn't see you complaining about me buying 'materialistc, useless things' when I wore that Valentino last year."

"Agreed," there it was, that semblance of a smile. "Though I must say my favorite part about that particular Valentino was when you took it off."

--

Yumi's first thought was that Emilie had drugged her and she was obviously hallucinating. She kicked off her shoes and slowly walked around her living room and into the kitchen. The coldness of the floor jolted her into accepting that Jeremie was actually, in her living room. Yumi trained her eyes on Jeremie, and gradually made her way back into the living room, sitting next to him.

This was incredibly weird. She had never been so close to Jeremie before. It made her uncomfortable.

"Hello Yumi," he said. His voice was remarkably peaceful. It was so unlike the calculating, biting tone he usually used.

"Why don't we skip the niceties and you can tell me why, and more importantly, how, you're here?"

"Why don't you relax?" Jeremie suggested.

"Why don't you leave?"

He sighed sardonically. "Alright, since you insist on being so rude..."

Yumi waited. He procured a slim, rectangular piece of paper.

"What is that?"

"This," Jeremie explained. "Is your salvation."

--

"Was it an airline ticket?"

"No," Jeremie chastised. "Stop trying to figure out what I'm going to say before I say it."

"Sorry!" Aelita look suitably humbled. Jeremie knew it wouldn't last for long. "So what did you give her?"

"What she needed most," Jeremie replied. "A friend."

--

"What is this?"

"It's a number," Jeremie explained.

Yumi rolled her eyes in irritation, "I know that. Whose number is this?"

"Mine."

"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

"Well," Jeremie paused, mockingly. "Generally, most people take a phone and use their fingers to push buttons that match the numbers and then -"

"Stop being so condescending."

"Stop being so stupid."

"Look," Yumi snapped. "I'm not in the mood to put up with your games."

"Neither am I," Jeremie said, coolly. "And neither is Ulrich."

That name ... Yumi found she couldn't breathe, like the universe had tipped over and robbed her of breath and speech and life and she couldn't ... couldn't ...

"Jeremie," she said at last, when her vision steadied and her heart didn't feel quite so sharp.

"Yes?" He almost sounded worried, but Yumi was too keen on trying to taper down her feelings of guilt and despair to pay attention.

"I think," Yumi swallowed air as if she was asphyxiating. "I'm dying."

--

"What did she do?" Aelita breathed.

Jeremie remembered this answer particularly well, as if he had been prepared for the question all along but it did not kill the melancholy beneath each syllable.

"She cried," he answered. "She cried for a very long time."

--

and Yumi found herself no longer strong, but a small child, breaking and broken and desperately reaching for something to keep her afloat. And in that moment, she knew, without any doubt, that she loved Ulrich as much as she loved life. There was no separation, no infinitesimal difference in degree of importance and she could not live without him.

She no longer had any pride, she only knew suffering and pain and immolation.

"Help me," and she was blindly begging.

Jeremie tried very hard to keep his nonchalance but it was too much like something - someone he had seen before, and he turned away.

--

"And then?"

Jeremie turned off the lights.

"And now," he said didactically. "Now we go to sleep."

"Jeremie, come mmhmp!"

Flushed, and completely outwitted, Aelita settled back into bed. She curved instinctively against Jeremie.

"Jeremie," she whispered.

"Yes?" He sounded aggravated, but she didn't care.

"I want her to win."

Silence, and then

"Me too."

--

"I'm going to help you," Jeremie said and he did not look at her. Yumi was glad because she had never cried in front of anyone but Ulrich.

"Thank you," she felt embarrassed but something else was building up inside of her.

"Don't thank me yet," Jeremie moved around some statistics in his head and calculated some figures. "If you want this to work, you're going to do exactly as I say."

Yumi closed her eyes.

"Okay."

--

Aelita was chatting Ulrich up the following morning, helping to keep him awake. She had him on speaker, and was showering him with endearments in hopes of cheering him up. It wasn't working. He was obviously in no mood for talking or people.

She had "accidentally" told Ulrich everything Jeremie had relayed to her the night before. Because of this, Ulrich had hoped that Yumi would be waiting at the airport, having changed her mind. His hopes were dashed and now he hated the world indiscriminately.

"I'm sorry darling," Aelita enthused and glared at Jeremie who passed her on the way to get his shoes.

"Your fault," he mouthed.

"Alright Aelita," Ulrich intoned. "I'm going to the hotel now. Send my regards to Jeremie."

"Your homicidal regards?" Aelita supplied.

"Yes," Ulrich replied darkly.

"Will do."

"Bye, Aelita."

"Goodbye, darling."

Aelita whirled around. "This is all your fault!"

"What?" Jeremie asked, innocently. "I couldn't force her to get on the plane."

"The hell you couldn't. Jeremie Belpois I am very disappointed."

"I'll never recover," Jeremie's tone was solemn. "Now get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast."

--

If there was one thing Ulrich knew was that he would never love another woman again because they were too much trouble to begin with. It didn't seem worth it in the end, and he was so tired. The valet took his suitcases as he gathered up his keys from the lobby.

His father had the right idea. Love was inconvenient. Now that he was going to take over the company, he needed to stop yielding to feeling and start thinking in terms of business. He viewed the prospect as disheartening but he had tried it the other way and it had failed him.

he loved her so much and she didn't care, wouldn't change. He would have given up anything for her.

Ulrich angrily pushed those thoughts away and motioned towards the elevator to the valet who was carrying his luggage. What he needed was to forget about Yumi, and forget about the world. Everything he had fought for had backfired in his face. Ulrich bet his father was laughing at his misfortune, if the man was capable of laughter.

He had hoped, wildly, that she would have made it to the airport, that she would have had a change of heart. But no. Yumi wouldn't change for him. Ulrich wanted nothing more than to hate her but he knew that would be futile.

He just had to move on with his life. Never love another thing again. Take up knitting. Something.

The valet wished him a pleasant stay and Ulrich didn't bother to return the nicety. He felt wretched, alone, betrayed. He opened the door without much trouble and pushed his suitcase in with an apathetic kick. The suite was extravagant and he hated it.

He ambled around. He ate some food pre-stocked in the refrigerator. Turned on the television, flipping through channels, turning it off. He threw his shoes across the living room. He went outside, into the balcony, and saw Germany spread out before him like a feast. He turned around dispassionately, and entered his bedroom.

And on his bed sat the one thing he swore he would never love again. She had her legs drawn up to her knees and a curtain of black hair obscured her gossamer face.

Ulrich felt the world fall away.

--

Jeremie smiled into his phone.

"Very well, thank you Taelia."

Now he knew she was going to win the war.

--

The room was silent. She was sleeping soundly. Ulrich reminded himself to start breathing again, not quite believing what he was seeing. He was afraid to walk any further because if it turned out that she wasn't real and he was imagining this, the realization might actually kill him.

He took small, unsteady steps towards the bed and his shadow fell on her, making her look smaller than she was. She was perfect. Ulrich fell to his knees beside her, and watched her. Her face was so perfectly lax, so peaceful, that it chased away at the last of the resentment and pain that had been eating away at him since she refused his offer. He wanted to touch her but he was still afraid that this was an illusion.

Yumi solved the problem for him. Her long, charcoal eyelashes brushed upwards slowly as she unwound. Ulrich could tell she had been crying. He wasn't sure how she got here or when but it didn't matter. He really did not give a flying fuck about anything except that Yumi was less than a foot away from him.

"Hello stranger," she said lethargically. She then smiled. It was a beautiful smile but Ulrich was not above destroying it. He kissed her so suddenly that she gasped in surprise. Ulrich trapped her body beneath his, and it was so unlike him, but he didn't care. He wanted to keep her there for as long as he could.

Yumi broke away, and Ulrich realized she had been trying to say something.

She loved him. She wouldn't have fought her demons and come all this way if she didn't. She wouldn't have been capable of freeing herself from the stigmas she had about love otherwise. She wouldn't have taken such a big gamble, or left herself open to everything he could do. He knew that she did. But she told him anyway.

And they lived happily ever, or at least until approximately two hours later which was when Aelita burst through the door calling dibs on naming their first born. Yumi laughed nervously and knew, with some preoccupation, that Aelita was being dead serious. Ulrich covered her hand with his inconspicuously, and Yumi decided that although she would probably see her first born for ten seconds before Aelita kidnapped him to raise in a cottage somewhere, that was okay. There were worse places to be in.

--

picture you're the queen of everything

as far as the i can see

under your command

i will be your guardian

when all is crumbling

steady your hand

--

wow. i finished. i actually finished. i'm in shock. and awe. or maybe both. i really don't know what to say. i want to sound clever and stuff but the art currently eludes me. thank you. thank you everyone who supported me through criticism and praise throughout this story. thank you to everyone who thought it was great, to everyone who could relate, to everyone that it helped, and to all that it amused. thank you for sticking with it for so long and for putting up with me. thank you. i hope you enjoyed the ride as much as i did. and hopefully, we will meet again very soon.