Never be further than a phone call and a gossebumped shiver away
Drove all night listening to mix tapes
The past is just practice.

It sounds like something you would write, darling. And from the most unlikely source...

http://xkcd.com/c24.html

I'm worried about you. Probably for no reason, but ahh. It's the curse of loving you so much.

First fable is Keeran's mom marrying the new guy. I guess Keeran doesn't even remember his dad. Poor bloke. The new husband (Cronan? "swarthy one.") He seems like a nice guy. He gives Keeran an opal necklace. He says that, as long as he wears the necklace, help will come to him. Fable 2 can be Keeran's relationship with his dad. In fable 3 we can see a bit of Keeran's education, maybe, and his frustration with not being able to follow his dreams? Now we need the reason for Keeran to go run off...

I think it's pretty important that we keep the story moving, too.

I can be a harsh soul sometimes, but I say close the door on him for a couple days and let him see what being alone really is.

Dos en un dia? jeje.

Eras hija de la luna, si soy hijo del sol. Eres princessa del bosque, si soy principe de los rios. Mi reina, si soy tu rey... y podemos hacer algo que soñas. Nunca teme. Soy tuyo, siempre. Nada puede deshacerlo.

"Anger? Anger, you should examine. Find the root of it and pluck it out. Uproot all your negative things," he murmured, adjusting his bifocals.

"And happiness? What of that?"

Idaris scoffed: "Happiness is like God. Questioning it will simply make it go away."

"Aderyn. Wake up, Aderyn."

He climbs out of bed, rubbing his eyes and wiping his hand on his tunic. His curtain flaps gently in the night wind. He folds it over his head, peaking out. In the night sky, hundreds of moons freckle the night, all of them different colors. Red, blue, green... they stand there, hovering over the hills he's seen so many times. They distort his home. They make it foreign to him. He looks up. Fayber is there.

"What is this?" Aderyn asks. He looks up at Fayber. His face is empty. His eyes are wide and unblinking as he gazes out onto the strange scene.

"Does it really matter?" the old farmer replies.

Aderyn is the farm boy's name. The Machinist is Idaris, the boy's friend is Drystan, and Drystan's father is Fayber.

There'll be times when we worry each other to death for no good reason. It's okay. It shows how much we love each other, I guess.

...although I believe God and the entire fucking Holy Kingdom are aware of how much I love you. It's all I ever think about. I imagine putting my thoughts in a bottle and corking the top, and tying a little balloon to it and launching it out my window. I think of it rising, to a higher plane of pastel yellows and oranges... your city in the clouds. A blushing cherub intercepts it, reads it, and gives a cute little smile in spite of herself.

But really, the Republic of Heaven... it's right above our heads, isn't it? We'll reach it some day. If anyone can, it's you and me.

You know I've never used your name here before?

I fucking love you, Midori Wada.

I think I've forgotten how to tell if somebody likes you. Or how to recognize if they're flirting or just being friendly?

...i still have my apprehensions. A (somewhat large) part of me thinks I shouldn't do this... I know you told me nothing will change, but my instinct...

When I was younger, I'd hide in the space under the sink in my mom's room. I pretended I was in magical places. I still go there in my head every so often: that's where I invent Armour, and it's where all the beautiful things happen. When I talk to you, though, it's as if something from one of those worlds were plucked out and made real as flesh and tears.

Remind me next time you're over and I'll show you the space underneath the sink.

If Armour had a princess, it would be you.

For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my Love.

Let's show the world how it's done. We're gonna last, and for real this time. I love every single fucking thing about you.

(PS, I can't find a way to tell him about us, even though I know I have to. I'm just so afraid... I know it's going to spread.I don't want to deal with it if people find out. I know he won't say "why didn't you tell me?" but others will. Serena especially. She'll be pissed. She'll keep asking me for reasons why, and nothing will satisfy her.)

We should visit Germany someday.

In history class Mr. Zwemer was talking about Japan's expansion during WWII. I thought it was exciting, brutal as it was: I think it'd be cool for a country to just take over half the world, only for it to be defeated again. I don't know. a bit of international excitement.

I found myself watching the clouds
passing and rolling today and
I imagined your head on my chest
as you pointed and named the formless
things, and you would laugh
and kiss my cheek as if
this is what we were made for.

I realized: I remember everything between you and I when you visited, but only as I experienced it. I want to know how you experienced it.

When you get home, write me an email. Pick some moments, tell me what they felt like for you, in detail. How did it feels when I kissed your stomach? When I bit your neck? When I rubbed the spot on your chest? When I grabbed your ass? When I touched you down there...? I want to know how it was on your side. I'm curious.

Tell me if you want me to do the same! And if so, what moments? I love you!

There are stories that children learn from their parents.They're folk tales, although they border on almost religious superstitions. There are a few very interesting stories. The farm boy often hears these stories from his friend's father as he lies i his hammock with his straw hat cocked over his head, his eyes closed, chewing on a piece of straw. The boy listens intently. Sometimes, while the lazy farmer talks, the boy closes his eyes and lets himself imagine these stories. The boy wishes this was his father talking to him, and not the stern, distant man he knew...

The Watching-Thing
The watching-thing is an eyeball, sprouting out of your back, in between the shoulder blades. It comes out and looks over your shoulder your entire life, watching. Right before you die, it whispers a single phrase into your ear. If you have lead the life of a hero, a virtuous human, it blossoms into a violet rose and lands on your chest.

Here's the reason, I think:

I feel like my friends are drifting away from me and it's my fault. I feel like I used to be really well respected, and I'm not anymore. I feel like people don't take me as seriously as they used to take me, and I'm not as nice a guy as I used to be. I think I'm giving up a lot of that just to come home and talk to you at night. I don't want to make it out like it's your fault, becuase it isn't, it's mine. I should be balancing my life more. You are, and I'm not. And when I called you and yo sounded happy, even away from me, I got that you were balancing your life and I wasn't, and every so often something sets me off that lets me know subconciously that the real world around me is falling apart, and that's my deepest fear.

It isn't your fault, it's mine, I promise. Don't feel guilty, it'll only make me feel worse. I love you so much.

I remember everything about the day you left. I remember we sat on my table and you took your glasses off and I kissed your face all over.

I don't ever want you to leave again.

The farm boy and his mother don't speak the same language but when they meet they can understand each other anyway.

And she disappears into thin air never to be seen again.