The past was the fire that forged you, that strengthened and weakened you, that molded and shaped you. It formed the magnetic core at the center of your being that meant some people wandered into your orbit and stuck there, like Ev and me, while other people, like Brian, got repelled time and again, no matter how sweet and on-paper-perfect they might seem. The past was all the missing pieces, all the jagged cracks and rounded edges, all the tiny earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions, and slow-but-steady erosion that had created your personal topography.
