Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.

We accept gods that don't speak to us. We accept gods that would place us in a world filled with injustices and do nothing as we struggle. It's easier than accepting that there's nothing out there at all, and that, in our darkest moments, we are truly alone.

Good night, sweetheart," he says. "Good bye, sweetheart," I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.

The world seems so clean if you only looked up.

I think, in this strange world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all.

I think she's brave. I think that nobody has ever believed what she could be capable of. All her life, nobody was listening.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.