Shh,” I say. “Arms around me.” Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no.

Desperation can make a person do surprising things.

Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, “I like your hair that way.

I feel like myself, strong and weak at once - allowed, at least for a little while, to be both.

I was so afraid that we would just keep colliding over and over again if we stayed together, and that eventually the impact would break me. But now I know I am like the blade and he is like the whetstone- I am too strong to break so easily, and I become better, sharper, every time I touch him.

We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves.

That’s one way of looking at it. I prefer to look at it another way—which is that if they are persistent enough, even tiny drops of water, over time, can change the rock forever. And it will never change back.