If one bad thing befell me, I immediately linked it to every bad thing that had happened in the last week or might happen in the coming week. And when I became sad, I was prone to wallow in grief, piling up my woes and sprawling on them like a dragon on a hoard.

I lived my grief; I slept mourning and ate sorrow and drank tears. I ignored all else.

I'm a procrastinator. That's a pretty bad habit.

For me, this is old. I probably know what is happening better than he does because I've tried over and over to wreck myself on another human, and always failed. I fail now. For it seems that my sorrow is deep in my bones and I'd have to break every single one to let it out.

As if he hadn't always known he was loved the best. That he was the Beloved.

Kelly has a rather bad habit of interrupting.