"I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days. Three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain." Keats
I refuse to believe that coincidences this eerie are anything less than small signs from the universe that I am on the right path. These are my private thoughts and couldn't possibly make sense to anyone else, but I hope that these paths of ours are not parallel. I hope that they cross again somewhere maybe not so far down the line. Are you here? I think you are.