Verdict in the People vs. Tim Wyman: NOT GUILTYWhat a terrifyingly compassionate and wise man Jay Bell must be.And brave.Also good at writing books that leave me utterly destroyed, listlessly thumbing through photo galleries of natural disasters, hoping for the moment my angstplosion is put into a more manageable perspective.I don't understand all the railing and hissing for Tim's character in [b:Something Like Summer|10213367|Something Like Summer (Season #1)|Jay Bell|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1294956195s/10213367.jpg|15086656].I never did.Love is sometimes desperation. Love doesn't always win over fear.It never wins over death at all.***My mother found out I'd been sneaking the love of my life into my tiny bedroom in my grandmother's house.My granny knew—we kept it from my grandfather—but once my mother found out she made granny choose: your grandson, or your daughter.I had to leave.My boyfriend wept like a baby, watching me pack up my things and tidy up the space. He took pictures, and cried even harder. I cupped a cheek with a dusty hand, and asked him as tenderly as I could why he cried if we still had one another.He said it wasn't right. He said it wasn't fair. And:"This was where it at all started for us."And it was. Our first of everything that was everything together happened in that tiny room.Maybe he sensed something I did not, but I was upbeat, and positive. This wasn't the end for us.It was a new beginning, somewhere else, and we could take what we loved about the past and cherish it next to the new memories we would make together.It was harder than I thought.But I know I was right.And Jay Bell is right.Love is love. It doesn't die, and it isn't exclusive. It can change, but it isn't finite.It never ends, and somewhere a child of some new family—or even some broke hipster, maybe—lays their head in the room where my mother said goodbye, and my lover said yes, and all my world's beginnings came and went at once, in the house where my granny died without me.