“The grief I’m feeling is heavy and raw, pressing down on me, breaking my chest apart. It hurts to even touch the edges of it. It’s to do with Grandad being gone. The loss of him, and the loss of me. I heard someone say once that grandparents are the guardians of our childhoods, and for the first time I really understand what that means.”

“Why can't you understand that I love you so much, that not being able to touch you hurts? I can't stand the fact that I can't get into your thoughts. Haventon is gone to you, but it's also gone to me. I miss it so much. It feels like my heart's been ripped out from my chest.”

“You can't have real pain without real love. You can't feel grief and loss and hurt without real love. Love is the only way you can ever be really hurt deep down.”

“My heart is heavy, she thought. It’s not just a saying. It is what is—heavy, a great stone lodged in my breast, pressing down my whole being. How can I even stand straight and look out upon the world? I am doubled over into myself and, for all the weight, find only emptiness.”

“Sometimes silence means more than words filled with pity and regret. He squeezes my hand, and I know that is his way of saying that I’m not alone. That even though he doesn’t know what it feels like to be me, because I hurt, he hurts. For the first time in my life, I find a great deal of comfort knowing that I don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.”

“It was one of those times you feel a sense of loss, even though you didn't have something in the first place. I guess that's what disappointment is- a sense of loss for something you never had.”