Sometimes when you push someone, you find out who that person really is.
There's no original evil left in the world. Everyone's just recycling pain. (257)
What about my rights? What about a person's privacy? Did all that just go to hell after 9/11?
The irrational thoughts were the ones with the power to burn holes in your gut.
My throat tightened, but I held back the tears and reminded myself that withdrawing from a woman is no different than kicking a drug; you feel shaky and you want it, but eventually the need passes, and you feel restored.
Maybe the trying is the thing. Maybe it doesn't get better than that. Maybe you never quite get there. And maybe that's okay.