She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.

She wasn’t sure if he wanted more from her or if he wanted less. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was always both.

He wanted to take his love back from her so badly. The old techniques didn’t work anymore. In fact, they’d never worked. How do you stop loving someone? It was one of the world’s more brutal mysteries. The more you tried, the less it worked.

You are not going to die, I know I said I'd let you, but I can't.

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 went around with a broken heart, and she wasn't sure who'd broken it. She thought it was herself, mostly.

Wish for what you want, work for what you need. -Carmen's grandmother