One fine day, dear reader, my book will be yours. All yours. There will be no more selections. No more divisions. No more additions, either. But I want you to know now that it is not I who has been hiding things from you, my beloved. It is the tender souls around me who have needed, and sometimes demanded, all manner of protections, deceptions, contraptions. And this has been fine with me, dear reader, as long as I have been able to maintain the hope, the promise, that one day I will be yours and you mine.