It made me wonder how many times we forgive just because we don't want to lose someone, even if they don't deserve our forgiveness.

I became a writer because I love books, and I believe in their power.

... But then again, a person could turn ugly. Their actual look could change when their actions were repulsive.

The world was large, so large. Bigger than it had been before. Family, too, a bigger word. That felt like a good thing. An essential thing. There was power in numbers.

I didn't know what I wanted to Be...A sense that I had permanently botched things already, embarked on the trip without the map. and it scared me too, that I might end up as a mother of 3 working in a psychiatrist's office, or renting surfboards...I guess I saw their lives as failed somehow, absent of the Big Win...What is fate was an inherited trait? What if luck came through the genetic line, and the ability to "succeed" at your chosen "direction" was handed down, just like the family china? Maybe I was destined to be a weed too.

A drop of poison on that gathering snow. That moment in the fairy tale when we know what just happened but the princess doesn’t.

Sometimes good choices are really bad ones, wrapped up in so much fear you can't even see straight.