And like my dad always said, the first step is always the hardest.

I would have thought this would make me feel better.. getting to be the one to leave and not the one left behind. But it didn't. Not at all.

How weird was it that so many bits and pieces, all diverse, could make something whole. Something with potential. 'Perfect.

It took a lot of work to be perfect.

What did it feel like, I wondered, to love someone that much? So much that you couldn't even control yourself when they came close, as if you might just break free of whatever was holding you and throw yourself at them with enough force to easily overwhelm you both.

I watched my mother do what she did best, and realized there would never be a way to cut myself from her entirely. No matter how strong or weak I was, she was a part of me, as crucial as my own heart. I would never be strong enough, in all my life, to do without her.

So it just wasn't in my house. Anywhere, I looked like I knew about the toilet.