Rachel

“I love these geese. They make my chest tight and full and help me believe that things will be all right again, that I will pass through this time as I have passed through other times, that the vast and threatening blank ahead of me is a mere specter, that life is lighter and more playful than I’m giving it credit for. But right on the heels of that feeling, that suspicion that all is not yet lost, comes the urge to tell my mother, tell her that I am okay today, that I have felt something close to happiness, that I might still be capable of feeling happy. She will want to know that. But I can't tell her. That's the wall I always slam into on a good morning like this. My mother will be worrying about me, and I can't tell her that I'm okay.

The geese don't care that I'm crying again. They're used to it.”
― Lily King, Writers & Lovers

“It was so awful and weird. I could see all the things I had loved about him, I could see them, but I didn't love them anymore.”
― Lily King, Writers & Lovers

“For a moment all my bees have turned to honey.”
― Lily King, Writers & Lovers

“I finally understood that what he did was always a form of violence. He’d been hurting me forever.”
― Susan Mihalic, Dark Horses