The woman you thought you talked to was like one out of my novels, nothing more than a dream, and illusion I conjured to feel better. That’s all I ever will be, unable to be that woman in real life.

Without her, part of my soul was missing. My heart had left with her, when she moved with Henry here, putting half the planet between us, making me wait for the rare phone calls.

I can feel him step close, then his hands lay on my shoulders, and they burn in the most delicious way, only reminding me how dangerous Benjamin is to me, to my soul. How fast I would get lost in him, only to end up with a broken heart when I could not be the woman he expected me to be.

I won’t do anything Sara; this is not me trying to get into your pants, or to rekindle what we had. This is just me concerned over a friend I know for a long time and don’t want to lose to a crazed lunatic.