the thing that surprises me is that if you rearrange the letters in the name hannah, they can't respell "stuck-up bitch". this is the single happiest moment of his spring - and of course she would try to ruin it. here's a secret: hannah - is not named "hannah." know why? he never named her. which means. that "her." is an "it." i don't care how fast you can solve 34356 times 6 - you're not his sunshine, you're not his lover, you're not his daydream. you're a fucking computer. get over it.
before he showers, he claps a hand on my shoulder and plucks an E in two octaves absentmindedly. i sing.
"i'm here," i sing. "let's fucking write the music that'll change the world," i sing. "right after you lock it up with the girl your ass has been too lame to talk to for months," i sing.
he smiles and hums and that's all that matters.
no matter what happens tonight - even though i have a very, very good feeling about this one - i will be here when he comes home. i'm always here.