If I am too avoid criticism for writing
dreadful poetry, it is only with pleas for leniency towards a novice's first
attempt. This is the very first poem that I have ever written and I do so in
response to a recurring dream that has haunted my sleep, a nightmare really,
wherein all that I hold dear is taken from me in a moment of senseless horror.
My dream resembles that of a scene in the movie Gladiator where Maximus returns home to find that his house has
been looted, his fields burned, and (worse still) his wife and child murdered.
In my dream, I am just a normal man of antiquity, with a modest home built atop
a patch of good earth that stretches far into the horizon. On my land there are
fields of wheat and barley, orchards of apples and dates, and a small river
that runs east to west and disappears into the horizon where the setting sun
turns its rippling waters into streams of gold.
One day, as I sit on the porch on some cool
summer's eve, my beautiful wife beside me as we watch our son play in the
fields that my own hands have worked, I see a great fire on the horizon. It
consumes all before it and approaches quickly, so quickly that my son is soon
overcome as his tiny legs cannot outrace the flames. My wife springs from her
chair and races to save him, yet she too is engulfed by the flames and soon
perishes. The fire surrounds my home, burning and destroying everything that I
have ever worked to create until at last all is gone. The fire dies out, having
consumed every patch of earth except the one I stand on, leaving me untouched by
its blaze, yet surrounded by an ashen world that I no longer recognize. In
those ashes is everything that once mattered to me, everything that still
matters to me, but it is gone and I stand there alone...all alone. Still alive,
yet somehow already dead.
This is the dream I have been having. I
do not know why.
Only crashing waves break the silence at
this late hour, lapping against the shoreline like the distant voices of some ancient
siren song. The cool waters wash over my feet and reclaim the trail of
footprints that countless steps have carved through porcelain sand. What
remnants of my path remain lead back to a raucous beach house where friends
both old and new send breaths of rum-filled laughter high into the midnight
void as the light of their souls mixes with that of innumerable stars and a
crescent moon above. I stray from the familiar voices, further along the beach
until at last I can hear their cheers no more and am left with only the
boundless sea as my twilight companion. She is beautiful at this hour, her face
awash in crimson and gold. The gentle breezes that dance across her shoreline
playfully tease my golden locks like some adoring lover and make me long for
the days when nightly I can relent to her temptations, for as now our trysts
are but a fleeting indulgence. I long to stay here with her. I long to walk her
shoreline as my cares and worries melt away like so many strangers' footprints
left behind. She beckons me to remain forever in her arms, yet is gentle in her
request, so very gentle and quieter still, her soft voice whispering into my
ear in a million tiny droplets of seawater that crash onto the shore.
But the stillness is broken by a sudden
explosion that drowns out her voice and paints the sky with colors even
brighter and more spectacular than those of nature's palate. Reds and whites
and blues fill the heavens, from the edge of one horizon to the other, each brilliant
hue accompanied by explosions of unequal splendor that capture my attention
with thunderous roars. My mouth hangs wide in awe as its edges curl into a
smile seen only on the faces of youth, or in those whose youth has been
momentarily recaptured. All the night sky is alive with the light of liberty...all
is beautiful.
And I wonder...I wonder if the fireworks
that my eyes behold are the same that paint the night skies over Boston Harbor,
the same that fill your heart with the hope and anticipation of things still to
come, just as your memory has filled mine. I reach out to hold your hand,
momentarily forgetting that your touch lies somewhere far over the horizon,
past where my voice can call or hand can reach, past even where the lights of
the beautiful display above can travel. But it is those beautiful lights in the
sky that I believe bring us together in this moment. As I stand on these white
sand beaches in Panama City and gaze in childlike wonder at the exploding
fireworks above, I think only of you. I think only of holding your hand and
staring at the reflection of fireworks in your eyes while the ones within my
heart are alighted simply by your touch. On the soft beaches of Panama City I
stand this July 4th, wishing more than anything that you were here, and
wondering if somewhere far over the horizon your gaze is cast skyward as you wish
I was standing beside you on this magical night, holding your hand as we smile
and surrender to a tender kiss.
Two years. Two years had passed since
Bobby rode off into the horizon and abandoned his beautiful princess behind.
Two years had seen that horizon bare and empty, with neither rider nor the love
he carried with him ever cresting its surface. All hope of the love between the
princess and her beloved knight ever awakening seemed lost forever...until the
day he finally returned.
Over the horizon he rode, a single
figure silhouetted against the rising sun. Though the morning rays raced
quickly across the open valley, the rider outpaced them all and arrived at the
castle gates carrying a single trophy, the book of spells that he held high
above his head.
The gates were opened and Bobby was ushered
into the castle. He sprinted up the stairway to the princess's bedroom with
hundreds of curious townsfolk in tow who all wished to see the miracle that
would soon take place before their eyes. For this day held a promise not felt
in the kingdom for many years, the promise that the princess might indeed
awaken and usher in a new age of joy and happiness that had disappeared the
moment her eyes closed.
When Bobby finally reached the princess
he took a seat beside her bed, opened the spell book, and began to read. Spell
after spell he chanted, some spoken in the common language while others in
strange and curious tongues he did not understand. No one knew which spell
might eventually awaken the princess from her slumber as Bobby turned the pages
of the great book and read each one aloud.
After several hours passed without
success, some of the villagers grew restless and began to trickle out as the
hour of day became late. The sun had nearly finished its daily sojourn across
the sky and candles were lit in the bedroom so that Bobby could continue
reading. More villagers began to leave until finally, after an entire day had
passed and the last of their patience was exhausted, only Bobby remained alone
in the princess's bedroom, reading each spell to her by dim candlelight. Page
after page he turned until finally only one remained, containing a single spell
left to be recited. He grew anxious, knowing that this final spell must be the
one that would awaken the princess and bring her back into his arms. Bobby
recited the spell, looked upon the princess's resting face, and waited for her eyes
to open.
Never before had Bobby longed for
anything more than to see the princess's eyes open. Never before was his heart
more broken than when they did not, for despite everything he had done, despite
conquering his demons and reciting every word he knew to break the spell from
which the princess was still bound, she did not wake up. She lay there,
completely motionless and without a single response to Bobby's words as he
broke down beside her and cried. The woman he is in love with remains asleep,
and he knows not what else to do.
"Why will you not awaken my
princess?" he whispered in her ear. "What more can I do?"
"You can speak your own words to
her Bobby," a voice from behind him said.
Bobby turned around to see the village
elder standing there, cloaked in a long white robe that matched the color of
his hair.
"My own words?" Bobby
inquired, somewhat confused. "What do you mean sir, for did you not just
hear me speak to her every word from the spell book?"
"That I did, but those words come
from the mind and are of no use to you where matters of love are concerned. For
though the princess is asleep, it is not her mind you are trying to awaken, but
her heart. Something greater is needed to do that, something that will show her
you have become the man she needs you to be. You must speak to the princess
from your heart, for the only words that can awaken a broken heart are the ones
that proceed from it."
Bobby knelt beside the sleeping princess
and removed the ribbon from around his neck that contained the two wedding
rings. Inside one of the rings shone the princess's name in the dim candlelight,
the most beautiful of all names...Ornela. On the other ring was written his
name, but as Bobby looked at the ring that bore his old name, he watched in
astonishment as the old letters faded away while new ones were written in its place.
His ring no longer bore the name "Robear", but instead read
"Bobby"...for he had become a new man, the man Ornela always needed
him to be.
Bobby took Ornela's hand within his own
and slipped the wedding ring onto her finger. He placed the other ring onto his
and looked in wonderment at the two hands that held each other so lovingly,
each now bearing a ring that bound their hearts together forever. He wiped a
tear from his eye and whispered softly in her ear.
"Ornela," Bobby said, cradling
her head and stroking her cheek gently. "After two years apart, we are
finally together again. I have missed you more than anything...and I know you
have missed me too. Although I hurt you so very deeply on our last night
together in Boston, you are safe with me now. You don't have to keep fighting.
You don't have to guard your heart any longer, for I will protect it forever.
Let go of everything, all your fear and uncertainty, and surrender to your
feelings, just as I have already surrendered my heart to you. You are the only
woman I have ever loved, the only woman I will ever love, and should you awaken
from your slumber and fall into my arms, I will never let you go. You are
her...the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you Ornela."
He leaned over his princess, caressing
her face with both hands and pulling her close. "Wake up Ornela...please
wake up."
Bobby kissed Ornela's lips and the
beautiful princess...
And here is where my role in telling our
story ends. I have written as much of our fairytale as I can, but I cannot add
another word because I don't know how this story ends. I need your help Ornela.
I need you to write our fairytale's ending. I told you in the second part of our
story that at the conclusion of this tale I would give you the most precious
thing in the world to me so that I can prove to you that I am in love with you.
That is what I am doing right now. I am giving you my pen, and if you know
anything about me you know that this is the most treasured thing I possess. I
entitled this story "Our Fairytale" not just because it tells our
story, but because we are both writing it together. You are just as much of a
writer of our story as me and I am giving you my pen so that you can finish it.
I have never asked anyone to do this before and if you know me at all you know
that letting you write the ending to one of my stories is one of the most
intimate gifts I can give anyone...and I am giving it to you. You will decide
the fate of Bobby and Ornela's love. You will decide if the princess ever wakes
up.
In the past four months I have said to
you everything that is on my heart. I have written you letters, written you
short stories, and even written you a novel. I thought that if I wrote you a
novel telling our story that you would come back to me. I thought that if only
I could find the right words, words so beautiful that they would awaken you
from your sleep and rekindle the passion that must surely lie deep within your
heart, that your love for me would return...but after you have rejected me so
many times, I don't know if those words even exist. I am in love with you
Ornela, but if my words are not enough, if my love is not enough, then I have nothing
left to give.
You told me that you wish you had waited
for me and I know that you wish that you had never given yourself to this other
man. You wish that you had waited and given yourself to me, and because you
have given yourself for the first time to another man you think that I won't
love you the same way anymore. You told me this in one of your letters. Now you
feel trapped in a situation that you see no way out of, just as the princess in
our fairytale could not awaken from her sleep. Do you not know that despite
whatever you have already done with someone else, in my eyes you are just as
pure and beautiful as the day we met? Do you not know that my love for you is
unconditional and is based not on what you have done, but on who you are? The
words that my character spoke to yours as she remained asleep in her bed are
the same that I will speak to you on that bridge in Boston Common Park if you will
let me see you. They are words that I have wanted to say to you for a very long
time. Read those words again Ornela, read them and imagine my face before you
as I speak to you. You don't have to keep fighting the feelings you have for
me. You can choose for us to be together. You can choose to wake up. And when
you do, I will be right here, holding you so that you will never hurt again.
Every day when I wake up I look beside
me in bed and wish that I was gazing into your loving eyes, the eyes of my wife
and best friend. I wish, more than anything, that I had never told you goodbye.
I wish that I had never left DC. I wish that I had stayed for you and then
moved with you to Boston to continue our lives together. If I had stayed with
you in DC we would be married today, living in our own home in Boston...perhaps
we would even have a child together. I often think about what our lives would
have been like together. I think about a wedding that never was, about trips
and adventures we should have experienced over the years, and about the
children that would have been our greatest joy. And I think about something else
too...I think about just holding you in my arms, everyday, while I look deeply
into your beautiful eyes and tell you that you are the love of my life. It's
not too late for all of these wonderful dreams to still come true. We can share
a beautiful life together. This can be our life if you want it to be.
You are the woman I have spent my entire
life trying to find, and when I finally found you I did not recognize that you
were her...you were always her. You are the woman I have fallen in love with,
the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Ornela, you are the woman I
want to marry. I have never been so sure of anything in my entire life.
After everything I have done over the
past several months, all the letters and stories I have written you, I hope
that you will finally believe that I truly am in love with you. Now I give my
pen to you to write the rest of our story. Will the princess remain asleep
forever or will she finally open her eyes and look deeply into her white
knight's adoring gaze so that they may kiss and live happily ever after?
If you have any feelings for me at all,
please call me Ornela. Please just talk to me.
Vultures circled overhead, eyeing the
lone rider who slumped low within his saddle. A fortnight had passed since Bobby
began his quest to retrieve the spell book and in that time his journey had
taken him over the tallest mountains and driest deserts. Barely a drop of water
remained in the canteen he squeezed to let the last few beads of moisture fall
onto his parched tongue. He tossed the canteen aside, watching it bounce along
the rocky terrain before coming to rest by the bones of an animal carcass that
the vultures had already picked clean. Alone and without any provisions, he
wondered how much longer he could muster the courage to continue this quest
that seemed hopeless, as both his strength and determination were failing him.
His bones ached, his body was exhausted, and a terrible despair had begun to torture
his waking mind. Bobby felt so alone. But in that darkest moment he looked upon
the ribbon that was tied around his wrist and the most curious thing happened.
He smiled. Even in his lowest moment, the princess's memory could still make
him happy. Her memory gave him the strength to keep going, despite all the pain
and uncertainty of where his journey might lead.
"I love you my princess," Bobby
whispered as he readjusted himself and sat high in the saddle, suddenly full of
energy and vigor. A simple memory of his beloved princess transformed him into
a new man.
When the sun was just beginning to set
and surrender its last rays of light to the starry night above, Bobby came upon
a foul swamp that stretched far into the horizon. Though he urged his horse
onward, the animal refused to enter so Bobby was forced to continue his trek on
foot. His progress was slow through the waist-deep water, though his sword made
quick work of the vines and branches that hung low and threatened to choke the
life from any man who ventured too close. Without the sunlight to offer
direction, Bobby relied on blind intuition to guide his steps until finally a
dim light was visible just ahead. Its golden rays were curiously alluring,
though somewhat unsettling, as its presence in the swamp was most unexpected.
The light came from an open passageway that
beckoned Bobby near and, upon entering this corridor, he discovered that a
thousand golden rings lay on the ground around him. Each ring shone its brilliant
rays upon the bewildered visitor's face as he reached down to pick one up.
Inscribed within the ring's surface was a man's name, and as Bobby collected
more of the rings he found that each bore the name of a specific person. The
rings lined the floor of a tunnel Bobby walked through until finally he came
upon a great underground cave filled with huge piles of rings, some reaching
over a hundred feet tall. The tunnel emptied at the peak of one such pile and
as Bobby stepped onto its surface he slipped and tumbled all the way down, a
wave of clanging rings following him like an avalanche of gold. As he crashed
to the ground, he gathered himself and looked up to see a tall marble pillar
before him, upon which a demon sat reading a book of spells.
"Lost loves, all of them,"
Baphomet said, admiring the mountains of golden rings that he had collected.
"Some were just beginning to blossom, while others had the benefit of long
years together to momentarily stave off my intervention, but the names of every
pair of lovers whom I have torn apart are written on each of these wedding
rings, rings that shall never see the hands for which they were destined."
He closed the book of spells with a loud
clap that echoed off the cavernous walls. "Rarely do I entertain visitors
here, rarer still ones whose love owes its ruin to me. I believe these belong
to you."
Baphomet tossed down two rings from his
lofty perch atop the pillar that landed at Bobby's feet. Bobby picked up the
rings and read the names on each. Upon one ring was written the princess's name
while the other bore the name "Robear".
Bobby examined the rings closely,
feeling the cold metal in his hand before saying, "You are mistaken demon,
for I am not Robear. He is my twin brother. I am Bobby the Contrite."
"Bobby the Contrite?" Baphomet
asked in disbelief. His laughter filled the cave with such force that even the
mountains of rings shook and sent rivers of gold tumbling to the floor. "Would
you try to fool a jeweler with shards of glass, or deceive a farmer with worthless
seeds? Why then do you weave your deception before he who trades in lies? Your
ruse may have worked on unsuspecting townsfolk but it will not have the same
effect on me. I know you very well Robear, perhaps even better than you know
yourself. I watched you hold the princess's hand in Charleston before sharing a
first kiss. I was there when you seduced her in Panama City as your naked
bodies intertwined. And on a cold winter night in Boston I smiled when you
abandoned her and rode off into the horizon, offering the heartbroken princess neither
a reason or apology. That is when her heart broke and she fell asleep...that is
when I claimed her for myself. You are the reason that the princess has fallen
asleep for these two long years. You are the reason she has never again known
true love."
A single tear rolled down Bobby's cheek
as he stared at the golden rings within his hand that bore the princess's
name...and his own.
"Ah yes, a tear, the raindrops that
water the gardens of remorse," Baphomet prodded. "You are a man full
of regrets that have led you to ask the princess for forgiveness after all
these years. But have you already forgotten that you abandoned her so
callously? What makes you think that she would even welcome you back into her
life?"
Bobby thought for a moment and boldly
answered, "Because my heart no longer beats for itself, but instead for
two bodies that share one soul. Two years apart have neither lessened nor extinguished
my love for the princess. That time has instead changed me...it has matured me.
When I finally became the man she needed me to be, I fell in love with her."
"In love with her?" Baphomet
asked, shaking his head. "In love with her?" he again repeated. His
laughter could scarcely be contained as he rolled around atop his pillar,
nearly falling off.
"It is true," Bobby insisted.
"As if by magic."
"Magic indeed," Baphomet
snickered. "Magic has little to do with your newfound feelings, for it was
by this potion that your fidelity for that woman was stirred at all."
He tossed the potion bottle that the
princess had sipped from all those years ago to Bobby. "Though that empty
bottle has caused her eternal sleep, it was her love for you that sealed her
fate. So great was her love for you Robear and so much of herself was she
willing to give, that she drank the potion, believing that doing so would cause
you to fall in love with her. Yet your love for her was never real...it is
nothing more than a lingering effect of this potion and the princess's
misplaced hope."
"You are full of lies," Bobby
said, clutching the empty bottle in his hand. "My love for the princess
proceeds from my heart, not the effects of some potion or anything else. My
love for her is true and everlasting...I am in love."
Baphomet paced atop his pillar,
contemplating Bobby's declaration before saying, "Even a broken clock
tells the correct time twice a day, just as a liar may sometimes speak the
truth. Hear then this truth Robear: You are a disgraceful man, full of fear and
indecision. You are a most loathsome creature indeed, and if the princess
should ever awaken from her sleep she would scoff at your attempts to win back
her heart. She does not love you anymore Robear, for you are a vain and selfish
man."
"I am not that man anymore!" Bobby
yelled. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it skyward towards Baphomet. "The
princess will not remain asleep forever because of your lies. Relinquish your
book of spells willingly or I will cut you down and forcefully take it."
"Hollow threats from a hollow man,"
Baphomet scoffed. "You will receive neither my spell book nor my
sympathy."
Bobby raised his sword and prepared to
strike the marble pillar upon which Baphomet was perched. "My sword can
fell the fiercest of foes and its blade finds power in the sturdy arms that
wield it."
"Whatever strength you possess will
surely leave you," Baphomet cautioned. "for unbeknownst to you there
is a poison that courses through your veins. When you kissed the princess's
lips you tasted more than simply a lover's touch, for at least a drop of the
potion remained in her kiss, the very potion that condemns all whose hearts
have been broken to eternal sleep." Baphomet's thin lips curled back to
reveal blackened teeth as his forked tongue prepared to weave its tales.
"The princess will never wake up Robear. You broke her heart and have
condemned her to a life without ever again knowing true love."
With those words, a thousand tiny barbs
pierced Bobby's heart and delivered unto it a pain such as he had never felt
before. His heart suddenly felt very fragile, as if the slightest touch might
break it, and the same drowsiness that had seized the princess on that bridge
in Boston all those long nights ago suddenly began calling for Bobby as well.
Still Baphomet's words did not relent.
"The princess will never open her eyes Robear. She will never look upon
your face again. She will never awaken from her slumber."
Bobby's eyes grew heavy, his breathing
slowed. The potion that relied only on unrequited love to release its poisonous
snares suddenly flooded his body and pushed him ever closer to a deep sleep
from which he would never awaken. Bobby's heart was breaking.
"You are a wanderer Robear,"
Baphomet continued. "And an aimless drifter is all you will ever be. Abandon
your pursuit of the princess, just as you did all the those years ago, for it
is too late to right the wrongs you have done to that poor woman. Abandon her,
for you are lost Robear."
With heavy eyes Bobby looked upon his
hand to see that it was bare. Of all the terrible sights his eyes had seen,
none was more tragic than the ringless finger upon which a wedding band should
have been. He picked up the golden rings that bore the names of two lovers, one
destined for his hand while the other for the princess's. The golden rings felt
so very cold upon his skin, as if they had never been warmed by a lover's touch
or the warmth of her heart. He thought of her in that moment, how happy she
would have been if only he had offered her this ring, the loving words she
might have said. Yet, for all the words she had ever spoken to him, only these
could he now remember:
"When
you feel lost, think of me and I will always come to guide you back home. I
love you Robear, despite all of your flaws, despite all of your misgivings,
because I know that in your heart you are a good man and you will always come
back to me, just as I will always come back to you."
"I will always come back to you my
princess...and my love," Bobby managed to barely whisper.
And as he spoke those words a strange
thing happened. His thoughts were no longer on the book of spells or the poison
that polluted his body. He did not see mountains of golden rings or the demon
that looked down upon its prey. He saw only her face. A beautiful face. The
most beautiful of faces...smiling, laughing, and saying those magical words: I
love you Bobby. All his apprehension, all his uncertainty, all his fear
disappeared in that moment...for no evil thing can withstand the power he now
had within him, the power that was given to him by a princess so beautiful:
Love. And with this greatest of gifts, all of Bobby's strength triumphantly
returned.
He rose to his feet and with both hands
swung his sword as mightily as any blade had ever been cast, striking the
pillar with the strength of a hundred men. Metal met rock with a terrifying crash,
shattering the blade like glass and sending shards of jagged metal flying in
every direction. The entire cave shook from the force of the clash and piles of
golden rings were scattered like dust in the wind, yet for all the fury
unleashed in that greatest of blows, the pillar itself was unscathed.
"Just as I said, your strength has
no power here," Baphomet taunted as he laughed and danced atop the pillar's
summit.
With no sword left to vanquish his foe,
Bobby became greatly distressed, until he remembered the princess's hair ribbon
that was still tied around his wrist. He took the ribbon and straightened it
into a single cord, then looped it around so that he held each end in his right
hand while the remainder dangled freely. Bobby picked up the empty potion
bottle that Baphomet had so carelessly discarded and placed it in the
rudimentary sling he had fashioned from the ribbon.
While Baphomet continued to dance,
oblivious to the happenings far below, Bobby swung the sling over his head
three times in a great circle before releasing one end and sending the bottle
hurling towards Baphomet. Just as the demon heard the whistling missile
approach, the bottle struck him in the forehand, slicing his face open in an
explosion of blood and glass. Baphomet let out a great scream, stumbled
backwards, and fell from his pillar onto a pile of golden rings that did
nothing to cushion his fall. The demon lay motionless, dead, as his lifeless
fingers released their grip on the book of spells.
Bobby retrieved the book and took his
leave, pausing only to thread the hair ribbon between the two golden rings that
bore the names of both the princess and himself. He hung the ribbon around his
neck and tucked it beneath his shirt, so that both wedding rings rested close
to his heart.
On the night I arrived back home from
seeing you in Boston, I remember laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and
wondering if I had just made the biggest mistake of my life. I picked up my
phone and began to dial your number when I stopped myself. I was scared. I knew
that I had just hurt you very badly and I thought that if I ever spoke to you
again it would only hurt you even worse. I thought that because of all the
terrible things I had said to you, it would be impossible for me to ever cause
you anything other than pain. And so I went away. I bottled up my feelings for
you deep inside where I thought that they would eventually die.
But that's not what happened. Your
memory was too strong. I began thinking about you every day, more and more. I
thought back to the late night conversations we had about all of our hopes and
dreams; I thought back to the intimate moments we shared together, some for the
very first time; and I thought about the kindness you showed me, the way you
look when you smile and how you always made me feel happy. I was so happy when
we were together, in a way I had never been before. And that's when I had the
most startling realization of my life. I was in love with you...and always had
been.
Maybe it doesn't make sense to you.
Maybe it never will. But it is the truth. I have asked you for so much, likely
more than anyone else in your life ever has, but I am asking you to do the most
difficult thing of all right now. I am asking you to trust me. I am asking you
to trust me when I tell you that I truly am in love with you and that I want to
spend the rest of our lives together. I am asking you to trust me when I tell you
that I will never hurt you again. I am asking you to do these things because
trust is the foundation of every healthy relationship, and I am willing to do
anything to earn yours back. I am willing to do anything to show you that I am
committed to you and you alone. That is why I wrote you a novel. That is why I
am writing you this fairytale. That is why I will move to Boston tomorrow if
you ask me to. The relationship that I want to have with you is the most
important thing in the world to me because you are the most important person in
my life, and there is nothing that you could ask of me that I would withhold. I
trust you more than anyone, and I will do everything I can to show you that I
love you more than anyone too.
