“i expected demands. he gifted me with tenderness. i expected ego. he let me experiment. i expected disrespect. he called me beautiful. i expected him to expect perfection. he taught me all i needed to know.”

“I never went to Albuquerque expecting to find love. I thought it had found me there, followed me home. I never came home expecting to lose love in the space of one brief telephone call. Is it always so short-lived?”

“I was about six years old, still Daddy's little girl, even though Daddy couldn't care less about me. How could I expect any man every would?”

“But death doesn't scare me. To know exactly when I might expect it, up close and in my face, would actually be a comfort. Because to tell the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape.”

“I don't love him, & he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something I"m pretty sure doesn't exist.”

“Later, Bishop Crandall dropped byThe house to give me a sternreprimand. He sat acrossthe cluttered table,playing with a paper clip.'Your parents are worries about you, Pattyn.'I was worried about myself.But I wasn't about to let himknow it. "Really?"'Really. What have you got to say for yourself? You've always been such a good girl.'Good girl. Sit. Stay. Fetch.Bristles rose up along my spine. "Define good."'I don't appreciate your attitude,Pattyn. Fast and pray. Search yoursoul for the inequities in your life.'"Any inequity in my lifebegan when I was bornfemale. Can you fix that?"'You'll have to fix that yourself,by concentrating on the thingsGod expects of you.'His two-faced rhetoric was pissing me off. "You mean like kissing your ass?"He slammed his hand on the table.'I will not listen to that sort of language. Apologize!'Behind me, I hear Momgasp. But I was on a roll."I'm sorry, BishopI'm sorry I ever believedyou might have somethingworthwhile to say.”

“I Want to ShoutLeave me alone!What's wrong with you?Don't you remember who I am? Who you are?This is not a father's love! I want to scream, Can't you see what you are doing to me? What you've done to me? What you've made of me? I want to cry out, I am your little girl. I am not your girlfriend. I am not your whore. I am not my fucking mother! But he is on top of me and my shout is silenced. He is inside of me and my scream stays there too. He is finished. And I don't cry out, but I do cry a bucket of silent tears. He slithers away and at last, I quietly sob”