I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.
It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.
There's a hazy smile on her lips that won't go away, and her hair is a mess. It's like a brushfire filled with casualties.
Set fire to the broken pieces; start anew.
The sullen boy sitting before me is not my husband, and the girl he is fretting over isn't me, will never be me.
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.