The butterflies were back, in force. I kept my eyes on Sean and paced to the music. It seemed to work. I gave my hand to Sean and turned to the altar....There was a man there.The fact that I did not recognize Pastor Mueller says all that needs saying about my mental state. Thinking back, I am glad the others had their scene. It kept me from worrying a hole in my stomach. I used the homily for that. It was short, but long enough for some serious fretting. When the time came for the oaths, I was. Sometimes full. Sometimes crescent shaped. But he always bounces back with a little bit of help. A little bit of twinkling love conveyed over empty vastness.”Through the crack in the curtain, it’s like someone has pulled the moon down low and hung it right outside our dingy room.“Are you happy?” you ask, handing rising up, up, up, trying to cup the moon, pinch it between your fingers, gobble it down like a piece of candy. So it’ll always be with you.A shrug. “I don’t know, blondie. Can’t. More

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