Eleanor once thought this boy was her world. She felt it all. The butterflies. The late-night tossing and turning. The halcyon days wrapped up in his arms. The idea of fancying someone. Until she didn't. ____ " i fancy the daffodils in the fields as the dandelions sway in the breeze the mid-mornings and twilight the scorching sun and moonlight why are we so fickle even when we fall "All Rights Reserved