Had to clear out of the house today for a bit. I bummed around the Mills mall for a while, but didn't buy anything. It was nearly empty, and as a result, horribly depressing. With melancholy brimming out of every pocket, it was off to Borders for story time. And I stumbled upon a book of poetry by John Keats. I turned to the page marked by the ribbon sewn into the book and read this -

"To Sorrow,
I bade good-morrow,
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind:
I would deceive her
And so leave her,
But ah! she is so constant and so kind."

I do believe I have a certifiable man-crush.