Without suffering, there'd be no compassion.

Because being comfortable meant she might lower her guard, and she could not let that happen.

Experience had taught me that even the most precious memories fade with the passage of time.

The pieces all fit together. Yet everything was falling apart.

She'd always believed that people come in two varieties: those who look out the windshield and those who stare in the rearview mirror. She'd always been the windshield type: gotta focus on the future, not the past, because that's the only part that's still up for grabs. Mom throws me out? Gotta get some food and find a place to live. Husband dies? Gotta keep working, or I'll end up going crazy. Got some guy stalking me? Gotta figure out a way to stop it.

The next time you're mad at me, talk to me,' he said. 'Don't shut me out. I don't like playing games. And by the way, I had a great time, too.

Perfect love did that to a person, and this had been perfect.