None Of It Meant Anything, And All

When I Pictured Myself, It Was Always Like Just An Outline In A Colouring Book, With The Inside Not Yet Completed.

You Want Me To Give Her A Key?" The Guy Asked. "i Want You To Give Her A Possibility," She Told Him, Looking At My Necklace Again. "and That's What A Key Represents. An Open Door, A Chance. You Know?

Don't Be A Fool. Don't Give Up Something Important To Hold Onto Someone Who Can't Even Say They Love You.

Sitting There With Them, It Was Almost Hard To Remember When I First Came To Perkins, So Determined To Remember To Be A One-woman Operation To The End. But That Was The Thing About Taking Help And Giving It, Or So I Was Learning; There Was No Such Thing As Really Getting Even. Instead, This Connection, Once Opened, Remained Ongoing Over Time.

So What Do You Wear To Dump Somebody?" She Asked Me, Twirling A Lock Of Hair Around One Finger. "black, For Mourning? Or Something Cheerful And Colorful, To Distract Them From Their Pain? Or Maybe You Wear Some Sort Of Camouflage, Something That Will Help You Disappear Quickly In Case They Don't Take It Well.