“You sitting on my hand,” he said.“Oh, I did?”, I asked. Though I was dying to ask him, I controlled my emotions and hormones for a while.“I...’s okay. But, I did see a change in your expression acknowledging the position of my hand. It wasn’t intentional is what I want to say.”“That’s okay” I replied.I didn’t bring that conversation again and he too, unfortunately. We let the moment pass. I was disappointed with the fact that he didn’t bring it again.We were talking about my boyfriend coming to. Was this progress, or a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure?People liked to think that there was some rational order they couldappeal to, some set of rules that they could employ to put them incontrol over their messy lives?if only they could discover it. But as faras Phoebe could see, this was merely wishful thinking, like believing inGod or Santa Claus. There was no rational master plan. No codes, no playbooks, no instructional manual for anything anywhere. It was all just abig mess.Oh. More

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