There Are Many Different Ways

Her Blog Was Doing Well, With Thousands Of Unique Visitors Each Month, And She Was Earning Good Speaking Fees, And She Had A Fellowship At Princeton And A Relationship With Blaine - "you Are The Absolute Love Of My Life," He'd Written In Her Last Birthday Card - And Yet There Was Cement In Her Soul. It Had Been There For A While, An Early Morning Disease Of Fatigue, Shapeless Desires, Brief Imaginary Glints Of Other Lives She Could Be Living, That Over The Months Melded Into A Piercing Homesickness.

Is Love This Misguided Need To Have You Beside Me Most Of The Time? Is Love This Safety I Feel In Our Silences? Is It This Belonging, This Completeness?

I Have Many Problems In My Life, But I Don't Think That Identity Is One Of Them.

I Like The U.s. And Feel Gratitude Towards It.

There Are Some Things That Are So Unforgivable That They Make Other Things Easily Forgivable.