My editor returned my book to me and the final revisions were coming along. I couldn"t focus. I couldn"t eat. I couldn"t sleep. Every waking, conscious thought was of my Raven. Every night I lay awake staring at the ceiling and allowing my thoughts to take me back to Ireland. I seemed to spend my days there a lot. There, we made love on the floor of my cottage before the fire. There, only he and I existed. In this realm, I was cold again. I had fallen back into nothingness. And nothingness is what I had become for I felt nothing but my love for Raven. When I was in Ireland, I could smile, I could breathe, I could fly, if only in my mind. But when Ireland melted away and we parted ways, I dipped back into nothingness again where I lived and where I"d die. * * * “How many “slowlys” do yo

