“I felt myself trapped in line for a ride I was not nearly ready for, looking back but moving forward in the only direction I could go.”

“It was the first time I had spoken to them directly. In doing so, I felt myself cross a fine but very distinct line, the line between speculating about the existence of a metaphysical plane of some sort and climbing aboard for the ride. I knew I had let go of my sanity. It was terrifying. I only did it because my fear of what was happening to my body had become greater than my fear of holding on to rational beliefs.”

“Most people I know live their lives moving in a constant forward direction, the whole time looking backward.”

“They weren't coming back and I could never re-create what we had, but I could move forward.”

“If I go back to the beginning, I could start it over again. I could go line by line; try and find a shorter way. I could try to make it... better.”

“If I survive this, I can't go back. I'll have to move forward and I don't know what that means.”