All of me. By what right can you claim that a part of me that defines who I am is separate, an illness, a sore to be healed? I know what I feel. I kno... who I am. Can you say the same? Unlike you I can see where this ends. The waves I ride get higher, deeper and harder to survive. Recovery (your word) is longer each time. The further I go, the harder it is to come back. And why do I, why should I turn back? Because that is what you expect of me? I know there is only one end to this ride, to this. The potential Hatfield’s and McCoy’s had finally met. Or was it the Montagues and Capulets?Either way, I avoided kissing my girl at that point, but we did clasp hands.They brought a gift, as did Lady Juliet, putting them on a stack on the sofa table. Conversation was a bit stilted, until Ruth and Margaret began talking about things other than their husbands’ gun collection.I hadn’t seen Stephen’s collection of rifles and handguns, but dad was rather proud of his vintage WWII weaponry.A sound in. More

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