Do you know how hard it is to say nothing? When every atom of you strains to do the opposite? I had practiced not saying anything the whole way from the airport, and it was still nearly killing me.

I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.

Push yourself. Don't Settle. Just live well. Just LIVE.

And it was suddenly very simple: There was no choice.

​​​​​​You're going to feel uncomfortable in your new world for a bit. It always does feel strange to be knocked out of your comfort zone.

If I don't cry while writing a key emotional scene, my gut feeling is it's failed.

Nobody fights you like your own sister; nobody else knows the most vulnerable parts of you and will aim for them without mercy.