May The Peace Of God Be With

He Turns Toward Me. I Want To Touch Him, But I’m Afraid Of His Bareness; Afraid That He Will Make Me Bare Too. ‘is This Scaring You, Tris?’ ‘no,’ I Croak. I Clear My Throat. ‘not Really. I’m Only…afraid Of What I Want.’ ‘what Do You Want?’ Then His Face Tightens. ‘me?’ Slowly I Nod.

I'll Have To Keep Looking For More Of Them, More Brief Moments Of Freedom In A World That Refuses To Allow It.

When You're A Teenager, Everything Seems Like The End Of The World, And I Don't Think That's Necessarily A Silly Thing. You're Waking Up And Becoming Aware That The World Has Problems And Those Problems Affect You, Whereas When You're Young They Don't Seem To Affect You That Much Even If You're Aware Of Them. This Dystopian Trend Picks Up On That Little Part Of Your Life Where Everything Feels Really Extreme And It Honors That Part Of Your Life And Says, "yeah. It Is The End Of The World. Look At It."

I Was So Afraid That We Would Just Keep Colliding Over And Over Again If We Stayed Together, And That Eventually The Impact Would Break Me. But Now I Know I Am Like The Blade And He Is Like The Whetstone- I Am Too Strong To Break So Easily, And I Become Better, Sharper, Every Time I Touch Him.

Why Did You Do It?" I Say. "you Want Me Dead. You Were Willing To Do It Yourself! What Changed?" He Presses His Lips Together And Doesn't Look Away, Not For A Long Time. Then He Opens His Mouth, Hesitates, And Finally Says, " I Can't Be In Anyone's Debt. Okay? The Idea That I Owed You Something Made Me Sick. I Would Wake Up In The Middle Of The Night Feeling Like I Was Going To Vomit. Indebted To A Stiff? It's Ridiculous. Absolutely Ridiculous. And I Couldn't Have It.