Gestating characters feels something like the mental equivalent of gestating a baby. In both cases, to create them you lose yourself. Or at least you reshape yourself to encompass them.

You carry your past with you even if you don't remember any of it.

I knew her hair and her coloring and her shapes would be different next time, but the way she wore her body would keep on.

I killed her once and died for her many times

She thought she was independent and strong, but she got one small taste of love and she was hungrier than anyone. She was ravenous.

She glared at him, feeling the old frustration. Sometimes in his presence she felt the deepest connection to him, and other times she felt completely alone-as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagination.

She got tired of herself. She got tired of not being able to say what she wanted or do what she wanted or even want what she wanted.