It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again.

This Lullaby is only a few words, a simple run of chords, quiet here in this spare room, but you can hear it, hear it, wherever you may go, even if I let you down, this lullaby plays on.

How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.

Sitting there with them, it was almost hard to remember when I first came to Perkins, so determined to remember to be a one-woman operation to the end. But that was the thing about taking help and giving it, or so I was learning; there was no such thing as really getting even. Instead, this connection, once opened, remained ongoing over time.

It is kind of hard to hold a lot in. But for me… it’s sometimes even harder to let it out.

Only a real asshole takes liberties with someone else's car stereo. That's serious.

In the end, though, maybe it's not how you reach a place that matters. Just that you get there at all.