Oh, The Fun We Two Have Together.

I Can't Help Comparing What I Have With Gale To What I'm Pretending To Have With Peeta. How I Never Question Gale's Motives While I Do Nothing But Doubt The Latter's. It's Not A Fair Comparison Really. Gale And I Were Thrown Together By A Mutual Need To Survive. Peeta And I Know The Other's Survival Means Our Own Death. How Do You Sidestep That?

I Think About Going To The Lake, But I'm So Weak That I Barely Make It To My Meeting Place With Gale. I Sit On The Rock Where Cressida Filmed Us, But It's Too Wide Without His Body Beside Me. Several Times I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten, Thinking That When I Open Them, He Will Have Materialized Without A Sound As He So Often Did. I Have To Remind Myself That Gale's In 2 With A Fancy Job, Probably Kissing Another Pair Of Lips.

Our Romance Became A Key Strategy For Our Survival In The Arena. Only It Wasn't Just A Strategy For Peeta.

Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.

I Look At Peeta And He Gives Me A Sad Smile. I Hear Haymitch's Voice. "you Could Do A Lot Worse." At This Moment, It's Impossible To Imagine How I Could Do Any Better. The Gift...it Is Perfect. So When I Rise Up On My Tiptoe To Kiss Him, It Doesn't Seem Forced At All.