"I used to think I was that girl you remember. And maybe I was, maybe those memories are real, maybe that girl who looked like me really was an angel. But maybe angels fall, maybe the wind blows and just like that they can be twisted into something unrecognizable."
What happens when you can't stop crying? What happens if the calm after the storm never comes? What if it's just storm after storm after storm, hurricanes and tornadoes and every other possible kind of weather, with no end? What if everything's ripped out of the ground until there's nothing left, not even tumbleweeds? What then? What do you do with nothing? Oh my God.