Its odd that fire can destroy my thoughts on this paper, but it can’t touch me. I’ve decided to burn this once I’m done writing it. Maybe for closure, maybe because the old Pagan rituals of my family still run though me, or maybe because I like the metaphor. I’m still not entirely sure what went through my head an hour ago. I was in Christian’s arms when I had a sudden epiphany, I could be with both of them, if I figured out a way to tell them. It was odd, when I pulled out back out of Christian’s embrace. He gave me the smallest kiss of the cheek. It was pure innocence. Like him, I guess. Christian is my comfort and Edge is my everything else. He’s said before that words can’t describe it, and I’ve never really thought about it, but he is right. Its one of those things you don’t think about. Its just there. Like blinking, or breathing. Even blind people blink, and even the living dead have to breathe. Edge is so sweet when he talks about it. He just gets this look in his eyes that like – another hard thing to describe. Almost like his life stands before him, hanging in the balance, not desperation, not joy, but almost a sweet, thankful sadness. It’s how Christian looked at me once, when he tried to convince me of our past. And now, I suppose I’ll get that look in my eyes when I try to convince them of our future. And here I go. So wish me luck.