He Put His Cold Hands On Either

Eight Full Lives,” I Whispered Against His Jaw, My Voice Breaking. “eight Full Lives And I Never Found Anyone I Would Stay On A Planet For, Anyone I Would Follow When They Left. I Never Found A Partner. Why Now? Why You? You're Not Of My Species. How Can You Be My Partner?” “it's A Strange Universe,” He Murmured. “it's Not Fair,” I Complained, Echoing Sunny's Words. It Wasn't Fair. How Could I Find This, Find Love–now, In This Eleventh Hour–and Have To Leave It? Was It Fair That My Soul And Body Couldn't Reconcile? Was It Fair That I Had To Love Melanie, Too?

I Miss You When You’re Not There. When You’re Happy, It Makes Me Happy. But I Could Say The Same Thing About Charlie, Jacob. You’re Family. I Love You, But I’m Not In Love With You.

I Had Enough Trouble Not Falling Down When The Ground Was Dry; It Might Be Safer For Me To Go Back To Bed Now.

I Knew It Would Begin With The End, And The End Would Look Like Death To These Eyes. I Had Been Warned.

I Promise That This Will Be The Last Time You’ll See Me. I Won’t Come Back. I Won’t Put You Through Anything Like This Again. You Can Go On With Your Life Without Any More Interference From Me. It Will Be As If I’d Never Existed.