I may be only twelve years old, but I have the map to your heart. I know every crack, and every crevice is marked down on my chart. I'd pushed you on a home made swing one night when we were all alone, you were telling me to slow down when the bough began to groan. You skinned your knees when you detached and landed in a heap. Like your bony little body, I was head over heels for you all week. You told me we would never be together, for you loved another man. He was thirteen years old and his name was Robert Samm. I asked how long you'd be together, if in the future I had a chance. You replied that it would be for years - decades even perchance. "We plan to grow old together, so we'll be together twenty years at least." Phew, I caught my breath, I thought I'd have to wait forever, but my luck has just increased.