I don't eat bread.' Is she pouting? It's hard to tell. She's had a lot of chemicals injected into her face.

The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb.

It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.

You ready?" Evan asks, and he's looking at me, and I love his hair, I love his smile, I lo--"I Love You," I say, and as I watch his smile bloom I finally get how great those three little words are. I finally get what they really mean.

She became a story, one I have mostly forgotten. One I can't end because she died a long time ago.

I didn't want it to be one good memory that led to a lot of bad ones. I wanted it to stay what it was, one amazing moment, something that was strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Something I could remember without any pain. - Kate

Darling, the world doesn't owe you anything.