Because hate's just the flip side of love. Like heads and tails on a dime. If you don't know what it feels like to love someone, how would you know what hate is? One can't exist without the other.

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.

Africa - You can see a sunset and believe you have witnessed the Hand of God. You watch the slope lope of a lioness and forget to breathe. You marvel at the tripod of a giraffe bent to water. In Africa, there are iridescent blues on the wings of birds that you do not see anywhere else in nature. In Africa, in the midday heart, you can see blisters in the atmosphere. When you are in Africa, you feel primordial, rocked in the cradle of the world.

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it

Missed opportunities were never superficial wounds; they cut straight to the bone.

is it like this every night, while we're asleep?

In the custom of mourning, the fabric of the night had been ripped, revealing a star at each tiny tear.