“Jesus?" he whispered as his voice choked "I feel so lost"A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn't let go. "I know Mack. But it's not true. I am with you and I'm not lost. I'm sorry it feels that way, but hear me clearly. You are not lost.”

“He reached out and intertwined our hands. Gently urging me forward he whispered, “Have I lost you love?”

“I'm still upset with my mother, though. And scared.If you lose me, I remember her saying when I was little and we'd go to a department store, just let one of those salesladies know, and they will take you to where I can find you. Even though I'm seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true-- that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.”

“I'm not lost, because I haven't any idea where to go that I might get lost on the way to. I'd like to get lost, because then I'd know where I was going, you see.”

“Not "I'm sorry,Ericka," or "I suck," or "I lost all the feeling in my fingers and couldn't dial a telephone." Nothing!I can't believe what I'm hearing.In fact, I can't believe what I'm not hearing.”

“I'm not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost.”