The ending of the Helenic period.
Yes, I tried. I was as forward as is possible for me.
I wrote her poetry.
But no, she was steadfast in her refusal to see, properly.
So, I gave up, writing her this:
I love you. Hold on, hang with me. I don't really know the meaning of the word, but I do know the feeling of the word. I know the feeling I get from talking with you, making you laugh, making you poems. Actually, I even dream about you, though I don't really remember them. This must be love. But it is not an all-consuming love. I'm not a Romeo. So, I've come to realize that even though there is not enough love in this world, there is plenty. And the more you make, the more there is. It is not a zero sum game. So, you have helped me make love, which I will take into my numbers game.
As a consolation prize, and my don’t we like those, we have stayed friends and communicate quite often. She has been strongly encouraging that I will find my next one. I have not been so gracious. Hmmm, maybe that is a problem.