“I don’t want to be the china doll you glued back together. I don’t want to look whole from a distance, but when you get close enough you can see all the cracks."He runs a gloved hand down my cheeks, "The cracks make us who we are."I shake my head, "We can be better than this.”

“He clears his throat, "Have you considered he sees you as a girl at school? Not all girls are whole when you meet them. Sometimes you have to help them get there. Right now, you are a broken girl. That doesn’t mean that you'll always be broken. That doesn’t make you less of a girl." He clears his throat again, "I'll call the doc. She'll want to talk to you."The tears in my eyes don’t come out. They stay in there like tiny kaleidoscopes, trying to make the world the way I need it to be. My words don’t come right away either. I don’t hear the click on his end when I whisper, "I'm not broken." But he isn’t there. He never really is. He is the master of not being there.”

“I laugh nervously and jerk my hand free, "I want the you that tilts his head back and eats the snow. I want the you that holds me and snuggles into me. I want him, but you hardly ever show him to me. I see a glimpse of him and then it's you that’s back." I point disappointedly. "I want the sweet guy who puts his hand out for me."His eyes fight something. His lips tighten, "He's in here too. I think there are a few of us.”

“What are you doing?" He asks looking intimidating.I shrug, "I want pancakes.""I'll make you pancakes."I laugh and turn around to walk backwards, "I don’t want your pancakes. I want normal pancakes. Not head game pancakes. Not maybe I'll make you happy or maybe I'll scare the shit out of you pancakes. You know?”

“How is he so rich and hot and normal?"I shake my head, "He's rich and hot, but he's not normal. I see a sickness in his eyes. They're broken like mine. Like a mirror with cracks in it but none of the glass has fallen out of the frame.”

“I shake my head, "What can he do he hasn’t already done? What can anyone do to me that hasn’t already be done?" I turn and face her, "I don’t have any walls left, Shell. I'm like a single tree standing in a field for everyone to see. There is nowhere for me to hide.”

“He stops kissing, but his lips stay touching mine, lightly, like a feather would. "I'm bad for you, Sarah. I won't ever be the gentleman you need.""Maybe I don’t want gentle."He pulls something from his dress pants and presses it into my hand. "And that is my fault.”