She Hadn't Wanted To Be Loved Carefully,

Cassandra Always Hid When She Read, Though She Never Quite Knew Why. It Was As If She Couldn't Shake The Guilty Suspicion That She Was Being Lazy, That Surrendering Herself So Completely To Something So Enjoyable Must Surely Be Wrong. But Surrender She Did. Let Herself Drop Through The Rabbit Hole And Into A Tale Of Magic And Mystery.

She Was The Breeze On A Summer's Day, The First Drops Of Rain When The Earth Was Parched, Light From The Evening Star.

It Didn't Occur To Him That She Might Have Chosen To Remain This Way. That Where He Saw Reserve And Loneliness, Cassandra Saw Self-preservation And The Knowledge That It Was Safer When One Had Less To Lose.

Ah, Well. Life's Too Short For Moderation, Wouldn't You Say?

You Make A Life Out Of What You Have, Not What You're Missing.