who once had dreams of saving the world, now laughs at anyone who tries.
When I am writing anything in general, I just want to tell the story that exists in my head; I don't try to write a parable or make a point.
A strange thing, words. Once they're said, it's hard to imagine they're untrue.
Times like this, when she slips her hand into mine and holds on tight, and our husband becomes just a shadow in the doorway.
It's never right to give up on someone.
None of the wives mention the security guards by the door, who will probably tackle us to the ground if we try to leave without our husbands.