I'd rather die my way than live yours.

Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone. You must hurt or be hurt.

Amazing how hope lives. Without air or water, with hardly anything at all to nurture it.

"And I love you too." His fingers skate the edge of my jaw, dance briefly over my lips. "You should know that. You have to know that."

But you can build a future out of anything. A scrap, a flicker. The desire to go forward, slowly, one foot at a time. You can build an airy city out of ruins.

There's always some relief in giving up.

That's the thing about best friends. That's what they do. They keep you from spinning off the edge.