But there was something I liked about the idea of those seeds buried so deep having at least a chance to emerge

If he'd been any other boy, and this was any other world, I would have kissed him. Nothing could have stopped me.

Despite our differences, we did have a history. No one understood where I was coming from the way he did.

But all I could think of was how when nothing made sense and hadn't for ages, you just have to grab onto anything you feel sure of.

I wondered again why the right thing always seemed to be met with so much resistance, when you'd think it would be the easier path. You had to fight to be virtuous.

Now I felt like I was drifting, sucked down by an undertow, and too far out to swim back to the shore.

You know, feeling and action are always linked, one can't exist without the other. It's sort of a hippie thing.