Lily. Here in San Francisco. She was real—she'd been right in front of me. And she knew who I was, too. I'd been certain she'd figured out I wasn't Holden. Do you know about me? Do you know? Yes, love. But I hadn't known if she knew who I really was. Hadn't known if she’d made the connection. Of course, I hadn't even known if she was real so I hadn't allowed myself to think too much about that aspect. Each time I did, it made me wonder if I was going crazy again—even considered whether it would cause me to go crazy again—and so I would shut it down. Christ. I didn't have to wonder anymore if she was real, and so I let myself think about it now. About how she'd stopped using my name, only calling me Boy Scout after she'd looked at the picture of Holden on the magazine cover. Yes, she'd definitely known. My God. Maybe you don't even know me?
What do You think about Midnight Lily (Signs Of Love)?
