I'm Too Much Of A Coward To

Some Lessons Can't Be Taught, They Simply Have To Be Learned.

What He Did Was Wrong. He Doesn't Deserve Your Love. But He Does Deserve Your Forgiveness, Because Otherwise He Will Grow Like A Weed In Your Heart Until It's Choked And Overrun. The Only Person Who Suffers, When You Squirrel Away All That Hate, Is You.

A Real Friend Isn't Capable Of Feeling Sorry For You.

What Was Wrong With Me? I Had A Decent Life. I Was Healthy. I Wasn't Starving Or Maimed By A Land Mine Or Orphaned. Yet Somehow, It Wasn't Enough. I Had A Hole In Me, And Everything I Took For Granted Slipped Through It Like Sand. I Felt Like I Had Swallowed Yeast, Like Whatever Evil Was Festering Inside Me Had Doubled In Size.

There Should Be A Statute Of Limitation On Grief. A Rulebook That Says It Is All Right To Wake Up Crying, But Only For A Month. That After 42 Days You Will No Longer Turn With Your Heart Racing, Certain You Have Heard Her Call Out Your Name. That There Will Be No Fine Imposed If You Feel The Need To Clean Out Her Desk; Take Down Her Artwork From The Refrigerator; Turn Over A School Portrait As You Pass - If Only Because It Cuts You Fresh Again To See It. That It's Okay To Measure The Time She Has Been Gone, The Way We Once Measured Her Birthdays.