There Were So Many Levels To The

In A Way, I Was Almost Happy To See Her. The Worst Part Of Me, Out In The Flesh. Blinking Back At Me In The Dim Light, Daring Me To Call Her A Name Other Than My Own.

There Was No Way To Take The Story Back, Folding It Neatly Into The Place I'd Kept It All This Time. No Matter What Else Happened, From Here On Out, I Would Always Remember Wes, Because With This Telling, He'd Become Part Of That Story, Of My Story, Too.

It's Okay To Accept Things From People. It Doesn't Make You Weak Or Helpless.

Some Things You Don't Have To Tell. Some Things, Between Sisters, Are Understood.

As I Rolled Over, Stretching Out, My Only Thought Was To Go Back To The Dream I'd Been Having, Which I Couldn't Remember, Other Than That It Had Been Good, In That Distant, Hopeful Way Unreal Things Can Be.