People Get Mad Annabel. Its Not The

I'm Sorry," I Heard Him Say Again. Then, Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, I Saw A Sudden Blur Of Movement As He Slid Out Of His Seat, Left Some Bills For The Breakfast He Wouldn't Eat, And Walked Away. And As He Did, I Thought Again Of Those Mornings In The Hallway At School, Way Back In Ninth Grade. Everything Had Started In Such Sharp Detail, Each Aspect Pronounced And Clear. Obviously, Endings Were Different. Harder To See, Full Of Shapes That Could Be One Thing Or Another, With All The Things That You Were Once So Sure Of Suddenly Not Familiar, If They Were Even Recognizable At All.

Nothing Like Being Scolded By A Hippie.

You Get What You Give, But Also What You're Willing To Take.

The Way I See It," She Continued, "is That Some Things Are Just Meant To Be The Way They Are.

Some People, They Can't Just Move On, You Know, Mourn And Cry And Be Done With It. Or At Least Seem To Be. But For Me... I Don't Know. I Didn't Want To Fix It, To Forget. It Wasn't Something That Was Broken. It's Just...something That Happened. And Like That Hole, I'm Just Finding Ways, Every Day, Of Working Around It. Respecting And Remembering And Getting On At The Same Time.