Gazing into the mirror, I saw myself as I was-a black silhouette in the room, a woman whose darkness had completely leaked through.

Betrayal of any kind is hard, but betrayal by one's religion is excruciating. It makes you want to rage and weep.

People, in general, would rather die than forgive. It's that hard.

I've always been a journal-keeper. I've always tried to write about how I'm experiencing life, and my feelings and thoughts.

I felt amazed at the choosing one had to do, over and over a million times daily--choosing love, then choosing it again...how loving and being in love could be so different.

And I was struck all at once how life was out there going through its regular courses, and I was suspended, waiting, caught in a terrible crevice between living my life and not living it.

A lot of time you write out of some unconscious place. I try to trust what is coming and where it wants to take me.