Crying Is Not An Option.

That What?" "that I Knew I Misjudged You. That You Love Him. I'm Not Saying In What Way. Maybe You Don't Know Yourself. But Anyone Paying Attention Could See How Much You Care About Him," He Says Gently.

As The Alcohol Overcomes My Mind, I Hear The Glass Bottle Shatter On The Floor. This Seems Appropriate Since I Have Obviously Lost My Grip On Everything.

I'm Not Allowed To Bet, But If I Could, My Money Would Be On You.

The Damage, The Fatigue, The Imperfections. That's How They Recognize Me; Why I Belong To Them.

I'm Filled With Awe, As I Always Am, As I Watch Her Transform From A Woman Who Calls Me To Kill A Spider To A Woman Immune To Fear.