“By the time she yanked on her old jeans and a battered plaid flannel shirt, she felt almost normal. Calm, as she plugged in the coffee pot. But the nightmare was still very much on her mind, because it wasn’t a dream…It was a memory.”

“Friends and family came and went, sometimes helping her with her tears, other times making her laugh. But even in her laughter there was something missing. She never seemed to be truly happy; she just seemed to be passing time while she waited for something else. She was tired of just existing; she wanted to live. But what was the point in living when there was no life in it? These questions went through her mind over and over until she reached the point of not wanting to wake up from her dreams--they were what felt real.Deep down, she knew it was normal to feel like this, she didn't particularly think she was losing her mind. She knew that one day she would be happy again and that this feeling would just be a distant memory. It was getting to that day that was the hard part.”

“Watching the couple, she silently wishes she had just cleaned out her damn coffee pot.”

“She smiled, not because she felt confident that she could think of a solution, but for the gratitude that she wasn’t quite so alone in her pursuit.”

“Something in her brain that still remained calm told her that she was doing a very foolish thing indeed.”

“Taye stood looking at her, waiting for her to let go of his hand….She quickly withdrew her hand and shoved it in her jeans pocket….Great, so much for acting normal”