7:16 Sunday Evening At the beginning of the evening, he was excited and happy to be with me. I could tell by his eyes, and his shoulders that were straight. By the end, as I was scooting closer to him on the park bench, his shoulders were slumped and his eyes were telling me that I was making a mistake. He knew it, I knew it, but it was a mistake I had to make. "You're not supposed to be in love with me," he said. "I know, and I sincerely wish I wasn't," I replied as I slipped my hand onto his arm. "I'm not in love with you," he said. I gazed into his eyes, and said, "Do you call every girl 'Angel?' Do you tell every girl you are afraid of leaving her? Do you look into every girl's eyes the way you're looking into mine right now?" He looked away. I kissed his cheek. "We probably will never see each other again. I think eternity is ample enough time for me to get over you. I just.. I want to know. for sure. Before I go. Before You go," I said.