I did not need to know if he could love me. I needed to know if he could need me.

A few weeks after the worst day, I started writing lots of letters. I don't know why, but it was one of the only things that made my boots lighter.

Why didn't I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.

Since the world has changed so much, the same values don't lead to the same choices anymore.

Maybe I'll try to be more patient with morons.

I believed him. I was not stupid. I was his wife.

I'm less worried about accomplishment - as younger people always can't help but be - and more concerned with spending my time well, spending time with my family, and reading, learning things.