When You Get . . . To

To Make Real Friends You Have To Put Yourself Out There. Sometimes People Will Let You Down, But You Can't Let That Stop You. If You Get Hurt, You Just Pick Yourself Up, Dust Off Your Feelings, And Try Again.

And Before You Barrel Through Some Idiotic Cosmo Girl List Of How-well-do-you-know-your-man Questions, Let Me Say That I Don't Know Squat About Him Except That He Kisses Like A God And Screws Like A Devil.

Some Stories Don't Have Happy Endings. Even Love Stories. Maybe Especially Love Stories.

Sometimes Holding On Was All You Could Do.

He Was Afraid That The Secrets She'd Kept Would Always Be Here, Inside Him, An Ugly Malignant Thing Lodged Near Enough To His Heart To Upset Its Rhythm, And Though It Could Be Removed, Cut Out, There Would Always Be Scars; Bits And Pieces Of It Would Remain In His Blood, Making It Wrong Somehow, So That If He Accidentally Sliced His Skin Open, His Blood Would--for One Heartbeat--flow As Black As India Ink Before It Remembered That It Should Be Red.