Again, it occurred to me how weird it was to be permanent in a place that to everyone else was only temporary. Like I could never be sure if they were the ones who weren't real, or if I was.

Are those the only options? Nothing or forever?

talk was cheap and useless. Action was what mattered. And me, I was moving. Now, again, always.

Can she be divorced?" I asked. "And famous for her commercials and ideas?" She can be anything," Boo told me, and this is what I remember most, her freckled face so solemn, as if she knew she was the first to tell me. "And so can you.

Wherever you will go, I will let you down, But this lullaby goes on.

It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is.

But something, somehow, had made all these paths converge. You couldn't find it on a checklist, or work it into the equation. It just happened.