There are two kinds of women--those who eat in a crisis and those who lose their appetite in a crisis.

I'm nostalgic and I do think about a "what if."

My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love.

Buried beneath disappointment and fear, anger and pride, I just might find it in my heart to forgive.

The world is not that black and white, Rachel. There are no moral absolutes. It is complex.

Yet here we are, two children and a broken promise later, standing before each other, just the way we stood that day at the alter, with equal parts love and hope. And once again, I close my eyes, ready to take a leap of faith, ready for the long, hard road ahead. I have no idea how it's going to turn out, but then again, I never really did.

Love and friendship. They are what make us who we are, and what can change us, if we let them.