Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other

It isn’t right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first.

I could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting. And it hurts, in every part of my body.

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

If she's in pain now she doesn't show it; she just closes her eyes and surrenders, and that is worse than her screaming for help, somehow.

But I know that for every good thing that comes along, there is always a cost.