You don't realize how much effort you've put into covering things up until you try to dig them out.

…you get trained early on as a woman to perceive how others are perceiving you, at the great expense of what you yourself are feeling about them. Sometimes you mix the two up in a terrible tangle that’s hard to unravel.

I couldn’t sleep beside him. It was too strong. I wanted him too much.

You called a few more times that winter. You asked if we could see each other in the spring and I said no. Oh, how I wanted to see you, that lonely winter in Pennsylvania. Those calls reawakened all the love and all the wounds. I couldn't trust you again with my heart. I was glad when you didn't call back.

What is the moment of death? The hook, the line or the sinker? When I fell in love with him? When I trusted him? When he betrayed me? What kind of death is it?