All I want is the best for our lives, my dear, and you know my wishes are sincere.

All I want is the birds for our eyes, my dear.

I thought this was the lyric; I think I like mine better. I just want to show you the birds, so much more romantic I think.

I talked to him last night.

I could feel that he was hard under his trousers... but I didn't say anything. So I knew it was a lie when he said he wasn't attracted to anyone... he said maybe he's gay. Or maybe he hasn't met the right man or woman. Who, who who?

I like his soft cheeks and his beautiful face, his pretty eyes and his argumentative ways. Or the little lump at the nape of his neck, and his hair. He had a spot above his left eyebrow tonight, and he was worrying it with a fingertip and being pedantic about it as he usually is. I touched it for him and stroked his forehead. He said, "nobody's ever touched me like that". It was serious, even, I think. When he's worried all I want to do is lie his head against my chest, kiss him and stroke his hair. I can't do the middle one, but sometimes (just sometimes) I rest my lips on the top of his head.

Then there is Little Bird; I tried to draw her today, I got her but I couldn't make her mouth come out right. She's always beautiful. I can't tolerate her believing what those horrible people said, she is neither fat nor pregnant, she is not horrible, she is lovely. What I really want is to hold her tight and to let her let it all out, or to go running with her and she could run it out. Little Bird, haven't you heard, you're being absurd. Everyone adores you- even he does, and that is why he's making you sad. Other people show it in normal ways. Stop worrying.