What Else Is There To Write About

He Wanted Pain, I Saw That In Him, And What A Man Wants He Will Often Manage To Find.

Cleaning Up After Themselves Was A Low Priority For Margo And My Mother. They Had Both Recovered From Cancer Scares, Failed Marriages, And Lost Hope; In Their Opinion, Dirt Could Wait.

I Feel Like My Eyes Are Killing Me At The End Of The Day And That I Shouldn't Use Them.

In Losing A Friend, She Is Reminded Of All She Has Lost And All She Stands To Lose Again. There Is Nothing To Be Done To Make It Any Easier. We All Grieve Alone.

Some Fates Are Guaranteed, No Matter Who Tries To Intervene.