With my mom, when someone was gone, they were gone. She didn't waste another minute thinking about them, and neither should you.

You couldn't just pick and choose at will when someone depended on you, or loved you. It wasn't like a light switch, easy to turn on or off. If you were in, you were in. Out, you were out.

Quiet and incredible. I really envy that.

I thought of all the times we'd been together, how I kept coming closer, then retreating, while he stayed right where he was. A constant in a world where few, if any, really existed.

If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.

Too many locks, not enough keys.

When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well.