“It is the rule of the Wilds:you must be bigger, and stronger, and tougher.A coldness radiates through me, a solid wall that is growing, piece by piece, in my chest. He doesn't love me.He never loved me.It was all a lie."The old Lena is dead." i say, and then push past him. Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone.You must hurt or be hurt.”

“It's the rule of the wilds. You must be bigger, and stronger, and tougher. A coldness radiates through me, a solid wall that is growing, piece by piece, in my chest. He doesn't love me.He never loved me.It was all a lie."The old Lena is dead." I say, and then push past him. Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone.You must hurt or be hurt.”

“Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone.You must hurt or be hurt.”

“That is the rule of the Wilds: You must be bigger and stronger and tougher. You must hurt or be hurt.”

“The only person who's ever really hurt me is you. And I keep letting you.""Ellie," he sounded in pain as he took a step toward me.He stopped though, the pain transferring to his eyes when I moved away from him."I do love you," he admitted and instead of feeling joy at those words, the last piece of me holding onto hope crumbled.I shook my head. "But not enough”

“Oh gods... oh gods... I had hurt him... so many times, I had hurt him. By trying to hurt myself, I had hurt him. By trying to push him away, I had hurt him. Every time I opened my mouth and belittled myself with my "turns of rough poetry", I had sliced his heart as fine as my wrists. I did not know why he loved me as he did. I might never know. But as I stood there and held him, my back nagging at me and my leg screaming in protest, I realized that the least I could do was welcome his love with an open heart. And part of doing that was loving myself enough to want to live.”