And, My God, The Actors. The Cast,

If Your Parent Is Deployed And You Are That Young, You Spend The Whole Time Wondering Where They Are And Waiting For Them To Come Home. As Time Passes And The Absence Is Longer And Longer, You Become More And More Concerned - But You Don't Really Have The Words To Express Your Concern. There's Only This Continued Absence.

I'll Tell Them That On Bad Mornings, It Feels Impossible To Take Pleasure In Anything Because I'm Afraid It Could Be Taken Away.

Peeta Bakes. I Hunt. Haymitch Drinks Until The Liquor Runs Out.

The Problem Is, I Can’t Tell What’s Real Anymore, And What’s Made Up.

"katniss?" He Drops My Hand And I Take A Step, As If To Catch My Balance. "it Was All For The Games," Peeta Says. "how You Acted." "not All Of It," I Say, Tightly Holding Onto My Flowers. "then How Much? No, Forget That. I Guess The Real Question Is What's Going To Be Left When We Get Home?" He Says. "i Don't Know. The Closer We Get To District Twelve, The More Confused I Get," I Say. He Waits, For Further Explanation, But None's Forthcoming. "well, Let Me Know When You Work It Out," He Says, And The Pain In His Voice Is Palpable.