There are times I'd wish to hold her tight.
But now I am on a different path, a path of lone and greens, a path of night and bright, a path of solitude and fear.
One thing that bugs me as a medieval fantasy writer and roleplayer is when I say I'm a "spiritualist who saw a glimpse of god in hell" the characters won't see it in a metaphoric way like normal 21st cen folks do but literally "oh so he can dimension hop as a class and he saw god, cool, like John did."