Do you trust me? The question is usually asked before an admission that such trust is misplaced.

Work. Write. Read. Keep putting words on the page, because that's the only way you'll get better.

I closed my eyes and he kissed my eyelids, barely brushing them with his lips. I felt safe, at home. I felt as if here, against his body, was the only place in which I belonged. The only place I had ever wanted to be. We lay in silence for a while, holding each other, our skin merging, our breathing synchronized. I felt as if silence might allow the moment to last for ever, which would still not be enough.

I am an adult, but a damaged one.

With him everything is a test, affection is measured, that given weighed against that which has been received, and the balance, more often than not, disappointing him.

There were never going to be any happy endings for me. I know that now. But that is all right.

I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd fought for you. I was weak and stupid.