Morning would come before we knew it. It always did. But we still had the night, and for now, we were together, so I just closed my eyes and drank it all in.

She stroked my hair and told me I was beautiful, but I was old enough by then to know not to believe it anymore.

Look, the point is there's no way to be a hundred percent sure about anyone or anything. So you're left with a choice. Either hope for the best or just expect the worst.

How weird that must be, to stay the same as everyone else changes.

But that was the problem with having the answers. It was only after you gave them that you realized they sometimes weren't what people wanted to hear.

She fell, she hurt, she felt. She lived. And for all the tumble of her experiences, she still had hope. Maybe this next time would do the trick. Or maybe not. But unless you stepped into the game, you would never know.

So you should remember that, when you're thinking about what other people can deal with. Maybe it's not so bad.