Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm.

If there's one thing I've learned in the last few months, it's that sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump.

That was the thing about being on the inside: the world was just going on, even when it seemed like time for you had stopped for good.

From this distance, in the dimness, the model looked surreal, made up of parts filled with buildings, bordered by long stretches of empty space. It reminded me of the way cities and towns look when you are flying at night. You can't make out much. But the places where people have come together, and stayed, are collections of tiny lights, breaking up the darkness.

What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed there, regardless.

My sister, who never understood most of the things I wanted her to, might have been able to understand what had happened to me in this summer of weddings and beginnings. And she was right. The first boy was always the hardest.

Yeah. I mean, acknowledging is easy. Something happened or it didn't. But understanding... that's where things get sticky.