Hate me. Devastate me. Annihilate me. Re-create me. Re-create me. Won't you, won't you won't you re-create me.

Closure. I loathe that word.

If I stay. If I live. It’s up to me. All this business about medically induced comas is just doctor talk. It’s not up to the doctors. It’s not up to the absentee angels. It’s not even up to God who, if He exists, is nowhere around right now. It’s up to me.

You know, I thought about that a lot these last couple of years," She says in a choked voice. "About who was there for you. Who held your hand while you grieved for all that you'd lost?

Forward momentum. That's my new motto. No regrets. And no going back.

I'll be your mess,you be mine That was the deal that we had signed I bought a hazmat suit to clean up your waste Gas masks,gloves,to keep us safe But now i'm alone in an empty room Staring down immaculate doom "Messy

It was selfish what I asked her to do, even if it wound up being the most unselfish thing I've ever done.