Then they scrambled through the window and into the darkness, determined to turn themselves into what they were not.

Here's what I hadn't realized: the mother you haven't seen for almost thirty-six years isn't your mother, she's a stranger. Sharing DNA doesn't make you fast friends. This wasn't a joyous reunion. It was just awkward.

My brother believed in all sorts of mythical creatures: pixies, dragons, werewolves, honest men.

My friends say I have two speeds: fast and blistering.

I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.

Could you really love someone who was capable of falling in love with somebody else?

I love feeling loved. I don't love knowing that I will always come in second place. I love the fact that at least sometimes when I am in my home, I'm not alone. I don't love the fact that it's not always. I love not having to answer to him. I don't love that he doesn't answer to me. I love the way I feel when I am with him. I don't love the way I feel when I'm not.