We Fight, We Dare, We End Our

Then I Dive Into My Tent Before I Do Something Stupid Like Cry.

I Knew It. In This Way, Peeta's Not Hard To Predict. While I Was Wallowing Around On The Floor Of That Cellar, Thinking Only Of Myself, He Was Here, Thinking Of Me. Shame Isn't A Strong Enough Word For What I Feel.

My Guess Is That Fearful Events Are The Hardest To Root Out. They're The Ones We Naturally Remember The Best, After All.

Because It Doesn't Matter Anymore, And Because I'm So Desperately Lonely I Can't Stand It.

Mutually Counting On Each Other, Watching Each Other's Backs, Forcing Each Other To Be Brave.