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But what they don’t know is this: As long as you are alive, it is never too late to be found.
In training, she had been taught the difference between reacting and responding. Responding was when you used the tools you’d been taught to clinically counter an attack according to your game plan; reacting was when you acted purely on adrenaline, usually leaving yourself open to further harm.
The people I have the hardest time treating are the ones I cannot imagine as a child, she said. Because of the circumstances in which I was born and raised, I had to be a pretty adult child
“She died and I’m still alive. Life’s random and unfair and sometimes it’s random and more than fair. That’s it.”
“Love is a stranger, eh?”
“You wanted to buy the house I wanted. You insist on making the food I like. You make yourself the martyr so that I become the monster. You need me to be bad so you can be good.”
the feeling that to be a girl with other girls was not some weakness, as they had been told, but a power, the best and luckiest power on earth.
Addiction whirred through all of them like electricity through a circuit.
“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it.”
“I miss her and I miss her and I miss her,” she began. “And I wait for the feeling to end because every other feeling has ended, no matter how intense, no matter how hard—but this won’t. There’s just no end to the missing. There was life before and there’s life now. And I can’t seem to accept it. I can’t accept that I’ll have to miss her forever. There will never be relief. There will never be a reunion. And I wish I had a God. I wish I believed in an afterlife or something, anything. But when I try to talk to her in my head, there’s no response. I can’t hear her. And I can’t feel her. All I
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