Because no one thought she was a person, she had no one to really talk to.

No matter how hard you kick, no matter how high you get, you can't go all the way around.

That's how writing works, at least for me: even the stuff that doesn't work out gets funneled into the stuff that does work out.

But I could always tell in her eyes if she got really pissed at me, and her eyes were still pretty smiley

You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful.

You have a choice in this world, I believe, about how to tell sad stories, and we made the funny choice.

If we restructure things to see that the hero's journey is a degree in astrophysics rather than a journey to star in a reality show, that's a better world.