I never want to move again. I need to be fixed. I’ve tried long enough myself.  Someone hit me hard. Harder. What does eternity feel like? I bet it resembles the last few minutes before you call, as I watch the leaves rustle back and forth on the tree by my window. I always think they should break off and fly away, but they never do. They stay there, dancing madly about, thrown indiscriminately by the wind. I wonder if someone could ever move me so.