Something About Giving In Without A Fight

Her Body Was A Prison, Her Mind Was A Prison. Her Memories Were A Prison. The People She Loved. She Couldn't Get Away From The Hurt Of Them. She Could Leave Eric, Walk Out Of Her Apartment, Walk Forever If She Liked, But She Couldn't Escape What Really Hurt. Tonight Even The Sky Felt Like A Prison.

Riley Was Quiet For A Minute. She Gathered Her Blanket All Around Her. "paul Always Loved You, Alice. He Knows I Know That. I Know He Loves Me, Too. But It's Different." Alice Opened Her Mouth, But Nothing Came Out At First. "he Loved Me Once. But I Think That Part Is Over," She Said Slowly. "no, It's Not. It Hasn't Even Begun." Riley Took Alice's Bare Foot In Her Hand And Squeezed It. "i Told Him, Though, That He Better Be Good To You. When You Came Along, I Said I'd Share You, But I Told Him To Remember That You're My Sister. I Loved You First."

Your Problem Isn't The Problem, It's Your Attitude About The Problem.

She Felt Like Parts Of Her Soul Were Missing, Had Left Her Body Long Ago. It Had Happened Not In Greece Three Months Ago, But Long Before That. It Was In Greece That She'd Realized Those Parts Had Left Her And Were Not Coming Back.

It Was Frustrating When People Loved You And Took An Interest In You And Sometimes Worried About You And Personally Cared What You Did With Yourself. Lena Wished That Love Were Something You Could Flip On And Off. You Could Turn It On When You Felt Good Bout Yourself And Worthy Of It And Generous Enough To Return It. You Could Clip It Off When You Needed To Hide Or Self-destruct And Had Nothing At All To Give." (lena, 194)