“Pain changes us. Mine made me want to be perfect, so that no one would ever want to leave me again.” I inhaled deeply. “Yours made you Golden. Mine just made me angry.” One of his hands found my jaw, and he lifted my head up enough to face him. “Your pain made you strong. It made you passionate and alive. It made us both who we are.” A laugh pushed its way past the pain that lived in my lungs, and escaped from my throat. “Golden Boy and Angry Girl.” “We should make a comic book about our adventures.” The laugh came easier then.
