LetsNotNameMe

No matter how tough you think you are, there are certain things that just get to you, and they’re usually the little things. The ones you don’t expect.

Then something else occurred to me. Those who have sacrificed always have the most to lose.

What kind of person is so hard on the inside that she cries diamonds?

And Glamora was still beautiful, even with her face carved up. Beautiful was in the way that she moved and spoke. Beautiful was an action as well as a description.

It always wants to be something different from what it already is. Now that made sense to me. It reminded me of myself.

Now it was clear: I had nothing except myself. No matter what happened, it would always be that way.

It wasn’t a question worth asking. To someone like her, or someone like my mom, it wasn’t a matter of how much she had. It was how much she didn’t have.