And as I sat and listened seconds turned into hours and hours into months, her scattered, energetic, passionate reflections, made emphatically in the heat of the moment, intense yet insubstantial, valuable yet hollow, the moment often lasting for three or four days, took on an ethereal quality, and I realized that I had come to enjoy her fictional ramblings more intently than many of the sober pronouncements I heard declared throughout the course of a day, and wondered if it wasn't better for her to continually come up with plans rather than following them through, and that if her artistry lay within the creation of these plans, breathing in the fluctuating nature of life's contradictory rhythms, concealed and prolific, as I fell in love.