My daughter and I are so close. She just turned six. I can describe anything she's doing, the least little thing, and I get all excited about it. It's like medicine.
Nothing before you counts," he said. "And I can't even imagine an after. " She shook her head. "Don't. " "What?" "Don't talk about after. " "I just meant that. . . I want to be the last person who ever kisses you, too. . . . That sounds bad, like a death threat or something. What I'm trying to say is, you're it. This is it for me.