“The therapist could not budge the patient from her syllogism. She replayed it throughout the hour, 'stuck in a single organization of events.' Seeing it from the other side (from behind the wall, as an observer), I understood the obsessive quality of such an attachment, something comforting in holding on to a smug, all-seeing knowledge, even a sad or hurtful one; something that let the patient control the precise amount of pain she administered to herself.”

“Marcie fancied herself an amateur therapist at times. I was her favorite patient.”

“Surely a good therapist should produce a Dorian Gray-style portrait from under the couch so the patient can see the person they really are.”

“It seemed as if I could see things in her that others couldn't see, qualities which not even she was aware of. It was as I I could already see in her the woman she would later become.”

“People could leave her; they could die. Something you loved so much could be taken away from you in seconds. Therefore, she decided to let no one else in. No one could hurt her that way.”

“There she is-dancergirl. But she doesn't even notice me. To her, I'm invisible. Should I go up to her, say something? Not a chance! All I can do is watch from afar. Hoping that one day, she'll see me.”