Humans Can't Tolerate Emptiness For Long.

I Feel Like What I Have Become Is Halfway Between My Mother And My Father, Violent And Impulsive And Desperate And Afraid. I Feel Like I Have Lost Control Of What I Have Become.

A Sob Racks My Body Again, And He Wraps His Arms Around Me So Tightly I Find It Difficult To Breathe, But It Doesn't Matter. My Dignified Weeping Gives Way To Full-on Ugliness, My Mouth Open And My Face Contorted And Sounds Like A Dying Animal Coming From My Throat. If This Continues I Will Break Apart, And Maybe That Would Be Better, Maybe It Would Be Better To Shatter And Bear Nothing.

Trust Me When I Tell You, Eaton Boy, That Resisting Is Worth Doing.

I Will Be My Undoing, If I Become My Obsession. I Will Forget The Ones I Love, If I Do Not Serve Them. I Will War With Others, If I Refuse To See Them. Therefore, I Choose To Turn Away From My Reflection, To Rely Not On Myself But On My Brothers And Sisters, To Project Always Outward Until I Disappear [and Only God Remains.]

You're The One Who Has To Live With Your Choice, Everyone Else Will Get Over It, Move On, No Matter What You Decide. But You Never Will