he knew a lot of things. he knew the old girl wasn’t for him. she had left him, hadn’t she? lives with people end, while your own must always move forward — never ending. with the old girl out of his mind, he started to think clearly. it was a sad notion that he had lost the old girl. really sad. but he had to move on. transcending was inevitable. wasn’t it?

then he saw her. her honey blonde hair curling into the pale rays of the moonlight, twisting heavenly. so heavenly. he walked up to her, offered her his words. it was something new to both of them.

he knew a lot of things. but, at this moment, whatever he knew was not under scrutiny. he gently took her hand in his, knowing it wasn’t right — it felt right. there was a difference between knowing and feeling. it was a thin line of a difference, but it was there. he contained it. and it contained him, through his fingers, his eyes, and his skin. he felt the waxy tingle cling to every perceptive nerve as he cautiously yet gracefully reached his hand to graze her cheek. lips met in a clumsy fashion. finally, he felt.

and transcended.