The chink in my armour.

I might come across as blunt, self-assured, strong, rational in my madness. That's how I would like to think I am, and maybe I am, too.

I also am terrified.

The boy who stares in awe and wonder atthe world is adventurous, mischievous, curious. He is also a boy. We all have one.

Mine is also petrified not to measure up to the idea you might have of me.

I think the girl in you is just as terrified as the boy in me, but she needs to help a tiny bit more. Only a bit.

The boy needs to know it's that girl in particular. You know what to do. Just do it. Talk to me as you. All you have to say is: "yes, it's me".

Meanwhile, the man sometimes despairs of his shyness, despite the apparent boldness. He gets as tongue-tied as anything.

The man longs for the woman, the boy for the girl.

I am going to lengths difficult to believe by myself. There is only one line open for us, I think it's you.

But if you say you're not, it's something I have to take at face value. I have no choice.

And the clock keeps ticking. The MB keep ebbing away...