Things always change when someone you love dies. You just can't prepare youself for those changes no matter what you do in advance. The only thing that's a certainty in always wondering who's going to be next.

Maybe you should get rid of me,” I whisper onto his lips. “Never,” he says, kissing me once softly. “You’re mine for as long as you breathe.

I’m not a follower. I never have been. But I’ll definitely become someone I’m not for a few hours if it’ll make me blend in rather than make me a blatant eye sore and draw attention.

But the heart has a mind of its own and it always gets what it wants, especially when it's dying.

Everybody starts out as strangers.

I don’t want to sleep alone,” she says gently. And I don’t force her to. Sarai falls fast asleep curled up next to me in my bed. Right where I want her.

...I watch her so much that I forget it's raining at all.