He Learned To Live With The Truth.

At The End, All That's Left Of You Are Your Possessions. Perhaps That's Why I've Never Been Able To Throw Anything Away. Perhaps That's Why I Hoarded The World: With The Hope That When I Died, The Sum Total Of My Things Would Suggest A Life Larger Than The One I Lived.

There Is A Fallacy That The Powerful Emotion Of Youth Mellows With Time. Not True. One Learns To Control And Suppress It. But It Doesn't Lessen. It Simply Hides And Concentrates Itself In More Discreet Places. When One Accidentally Stumbles Into One Of These Abysses, The Pain Is Spectacular.

Maybe The First Time You Saw Her You Were Ten. She Was Standing In The Sun Scratching Her Legs. Or Tracing Letters In The Dirt With A Stick. Her Hair Was Being Pulled. Or She Was Pulling Someone's Hair. And A Part Of You Was Drawn To Her, And A Part Of You Resisted--wanting To Ride Off On Your Bicycle, Kick A Stone, Remain Uncomplicated. In The Same Breath You Felt The Strength Of A Man, And A Self-pity That Made You Feel Small And Hurt. Part Of You Thought: Please Don't Look At Me. If You Don't, I Can Still Turn Away. And Part Of You Thought: Look At Me.

If It Weren't For Her, There Would Never Have Been An Empty Space, Or The Need To Fill It.

I Knew That To Find And To Feel Yoav Again Would Be Terribly Painful, Because Of What Had Become Of Him, And Because Of What I Knew He Could Ignite In Me, A Vitality That Was Excruciating Because Like A Flare It Lit Up The Emptiness Inside Me And Exposed What I Always Secretly Knew About Myself: How Much Time I'd Spent Being Only Partly Alive, And How Easily I'd Accepted A Lesser Life.