It's been six long years . . .
So I know . . . I think I know most of you . . . generally.
Do I know what I'm doing? . . . Should I know?
Was I too vulnerable? . . . Am I still?
Did I break some walls? . . . Were those yours or mine?
Probably mine . . .
Do you remember this conversation?
- " Wait. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
- " Ye-es . . . I wish I hadn't spoken."
- " I'm going to pretend you never did."
Because that is the cousin of what we had . . .
Or . . . do you even remember that?

Now Lucifer wants me to keep holding on when
Michael is telling me to let go . . .
And currently, it's hard to listen to the archangel
. . . because I still have the memories . . .
. . . because I'm still dreaming of that one little flamboyant dream I once had . . .
. . . because it wasn't six long weeks.
Because it was six years.