Yet sometimes being a friend meant letting people do things that hurt, like putting distance between you, just because it made them happy.

A curve of silver hung amid the brighter specks; it looked to me like a curved dagger, pretty but deadly, as if it might slice the sky in two.

Each love is unique. Special. Giving to one never takes away from another.

Did he die well?" No, I thought. Nobody did. They just died.

Each time Stalker called you 'dove', I wanted to hit him. Because you're not a little gray bird... you're all the light in the world.

Through the damp fabric of my coverall, bundled in my blanket, I feel naked. Raw. He sees more than I want, more than I can bear. It’s like standing before him ... while he stares at my scars, pitiless and unmoved.

There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.