Love can make us do dreadful things.

You don’t know what it’s like to be alone until you’ve had someone inside your head.

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

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.

For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.

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.

Survival feels like cowardice.