Because words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

Maybe we all just wanted someone to believe in. That's all each of us wanted, and it should be so simple, but it never was simple.

A person shows signs of clutching on too fast, of being needy, of not hearing the word "no," of jealousy, of guarding you and your freedom. But the signs can be so small they skitter right past you. Sometimes they dance past, looking satiny, something you should applaud. Someone's jealousy can make you feel good. Special. But it's not even about you. It's about a hand that is already gripping. It's about their need, circling around your throat

Being needed was a handy trick. It could fill you up so full you never even noticed all the places that were empty.

I put the guitar back in the case. I can't even look at it anymore. Instead, I want to make brownies. I want an end result there's a recipe for. I want to combine eggs and water and oil and chocolate and flour and sugar and vanilla and get something fulfilling.

It occurred to me then that a lot of life was either about wanting and not having, or having and not wanting.

Although I love snow, it messes things up terribly around Seattle, with all of our hills. I worry about my loved ones driving.