In the end, though, I did not kill my sister. She did it all on her own. Or at least this is what I tell myself.

There is a fine line between seeing something that's lost as missing, and seeing it as something that might be found.

In this new place we've found, sometimes there aren't words, because the truth can be even more difficult than the lies.

What you didn't tell someone was just as debilitating as what you did.

I am not keeping my distance because it is uncomfortable for me, but because it is uncomfortable for them.

It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you.

Change is a funny thing. We never are quite sure what we are becoming or even why. Then one day we look at ourselves and wonder who we are and how we got that way. Only one thing about change remains constant...it is always painful