This is the story of a dreamer.

Reading was like an addiction; I read while I ate, on the train, in bed until late at night, in school, where I’d keep the book hidden so I could read during class. Before long I bought a small stereo and spent all my time in my room, listening to jazz records. But I had almost no desire to talk to anyone about the experience I gained through books and music. I felt happy just being me and no one else.

Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension. But I am not always in what I call a state of grace. I have days of illuminations and fevers. I have days when the music in my head stops. Then I mend socks, prune trees, can fruits, polish furniture. But while I am doing this I feel I am not living.

She was taught to believe in what she saw. But what she saw didn’t give her much to believe in.

She said, “when you loved him he had his mouth pressed to the lips of a girl who didn’t care. And then he loved you, but by then it was too late. “See,“ she said, “timing doesn’t matter to things that have already happened. But timing is everything to things that never had the chance to start.”

I was used to being invisible. People rarely saw me, and if they did, they never looked close. I wasn’t shiny and charming like my brother, stunning and graceful like my mother, or smart and dynamic like my friends. That’s the thing, though. You always think you want to be noticed. Until you are.

You’re given this life and all these years and you just fade away without leaving a mark. What kind of story would that be?

Most people are together just so they are not alone. But some people want magic. I think you are one of those people.

Almost. It’s a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe.