The first line they crossed breached the gap between friendship and romance. Their first kiss was not memorable, not anything special. But she always remembered it.

Later that month, as she laid her head on his sweaty chest and sighed happily, relishing the feeling of his fingertips on her bare waist, she realized they’d crossed yet another line.

The first time he told her that he loved her, she felt as if her heart had permanently had etched onto it several lines. Spelling out his name. And hers. S&L Forever.

He jumped over the next line whole-heartedly, asking her if they could move in together. She whole-heartedly said yes. Please. She’d been waiting.




The line she’d drawn between caring for him and caring for music was blurring at a rapid pace. She was still uncertain what would happen if those two paths conflicted.

He smothered her in words, in commands, in his jealousy. She drew a line between them and told him not to go over it. He tried to. He was banished.

The line between together and split up was comprised of promises (made and broken) and passion (devotion and betrayal). Whilst they made love, a final decision waited to be made.




The line was solid and immovable. One night they were actors on a stage, reliving their love affair. The next night they lived their love affairs. Sometimes they acted…

It took some years before he realized there was a thin line between the routine and safe contentment of a marital relationship and the sense of being completely stuck.




One night she toed the line between lying and telling the truth to him. He knew her words and mind better than anyone. Implied was ‘I miss you and I want you’.

The line was there for a reason - to protect their families, to protect their art, to protect their memories. And to protect their hearts.

That very night, he crossed that carefully constructed line (made of self-denial and banished hope) and kissed her again. The kiss was memorable. The kiss was special. And they couldn’t forget it.