Someone wake me when it's over When the evening silence softens golden Just lay me on bed of dover Oh, I need help with this burden "Hush

Something given, something taken away. Does it always have to work like that?

But then Mason touches my neck, to the spot on it where the cut from that night has since healed, and I pull away. He was right, after all; it didn't leave a scar, though part of me wishes it had. At least I'd have some evidence, some justification of this permanence. Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.

Because I understand all the ways of trying to escape, how sometimes you escape one prison only to find you've built yourself a different one.

Do you do that a lot? Move on?" "Maybe. But only because I travel a lot." She taps put a beat on the steering wheel, audible only to herseld. "Or maybe you travel a lot because it lets you move on." "Perhaps." ........ I look out the window. The jungle is everywhere. I look back at her. "Can you move on from something when you're not sure what it is you're moving on from?

You?' is all I can manage to choke out. 'Always me,' she replies softly, bashfully. 'Who else?

My stomach lurched, an appetizer before the full portion of heartache I had a feeling was going to be served at some point soon.