How can three. . .little . . .simple. . .words cause so much anguish and pain. Come on, how hard can it be to get around three little simple words? Hidden inside this world of darkness, door locked, key on the outside, self imposed exile from happiness because of three little simple words. Will the beginning be the end? Will there be a day when everything will be a open book, where everyone will already know the ending of the story without ever having read the last line in the Book of Stephen? Will there ever be a day, my life will be an open pair of jeans, everything bared for the world to see?