Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.

If it's to be, it's up to me.to which I add;If not now...then when?

Ethan: ____ not asking you to continue that night.__aris: __hen what are you asking?__than: __or a whole new night.

Believe me, I knew you enjoyed it without voicing it that way. It was like your body screamed for me to take you." All too true, but I didn't like it to be told aloud. I arched an eyebrow, something I couldn't do when sober. "I'm pretty sure if I put a hand on your crotch, you're sporting a boner. It works both ways.

Whatever it was that came over him that night pulled a cord__er laugh, or her surprise gasp slipping out to think he__ do something so bold.

Focus. She__ Maddie. Your friend. Would you eyeball Keith or Dane__ butt like that? ~ Zach