It felt as though they were the only people in the world, two young women about to bury the symbol of their helplessness, as if that's all it would take to make them whole again.

If we measured life in the things that almost happened, we wouldn't get anywhere.

It was like she was MADE of cake, light and pretty and decorated on the outside-with her sweet laugh and pink streak to her hair-but it was anyone's guess what was on the inside.

I lost myself trying to find happiness in things that didn't love me back.

Everything was quiet, a strange sort of quiet that felt like an unfinished sentence.

You are who you are, whether you like it or not, so why not like it?

The next morning dawned bright and sweet, like ribbon candy.