It was like that part of my life, was just gone. It was almost too easy, for something I once thought had meant everything.

I think whenever a writer is really enjoying themselves and liking what they are doing, that shows on the page.

There was something striking about a single key. It was like a question waiting to be answered, a whole missing a half. Useless on its own, needing something else to be truly defined.

One open, one closed. It was no wonder that the first image that came to mind when I thought of either of my sisters was a door. With Kirsten, it was the front one to our house, through which she was always coming in or out, usually in mid-sentence, a gaggle of friends trailing behind her. Whitney’s was the one to her bedroom, which she preferred to keep shut between her and the rest of us, always.

Family isnt about blood relationships, its about the meaning behind them. I relize now that sharing chromosoms is not the only way to having a family, its about the friendship behind it.

She stroked my hair and told me I was beautiful, but I was old enough by then to know not to believe it anymore.

It took a lot of work to be perfect.