“He cared less, so they cared more. He said it was beautiful. I knew he was broken.This was his game.”

“He had let me know time after time that he was a thinking man, a man of intellect and wit. Yet one unintended hungry look into my eyes and he betrayed each of his words he had carefully spoken to me. I knew it in that instant. He was a viscerally driven man. And one day, he would possess me.”

“She wanted to write to him. Tell him she was glad he was back, that he was alive, that he was home and safe. But words to him no longer fit right in her her mouth.Words which belonged in his ownership were no longer hers to give. Silence was the only acceptable state her heart would grant. He would never know what he missed, because she refused to be heard in his presence. All the words he could have had, all the phrases he might have danced with. The smiles which would have been imprinted upon his heart, would never be. And his lips would never be able to reply to the words she could not say.”

“The world I held so closely, she played me like a game,I released and left her laughing to stand on my own two feet.”

“…..she needed him to know she did not care. She was spirited, tenacious, and full of contempt for him.”

“…..plainly put, I loved the way he effortlessly forced my pen to act savagely, to swerve course without warning.”

“I wait, you play. You speak, I cave. I promise, you break. You game me, daily, you play me.”