Chapter 8: It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that is has begun

Chapter 8: It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that is has begun

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sophia

He kissed me. I think to myself as I stand in front of the door like a lost puppy. I could tell that he was alarmed by what he did. All I can think is that the kiss was some kind of knee-jerk reaction. Like a kiss, a man gives to his wife before he walks out the door. Perhaps he has kissed someone like that before, and for a moment, forgot where he was and who he was kissing. Which depresses me more than I thought.