She learned that suffering, even though it may have happened a long time ago, is something that is passed from one generation to the next

There is no meaning to life but it's okay and now that I really know it and have had it confirmed and can stop searching for it I can go on living!

It feels like I don't have quite enough skin, that parts of me that should be covered are exposed.

She told me that the brain is built to forget things as we continue to live, that memories are meant to fade and disintegrate, that skin, so protective in the beginning because it has to be to protect our organs, sags eventually - because the organs aren't so hot anymore either - and sharp edges become blunt, that the pain of letting go of grief is just as painful or even more painful than the grief itself.

We spent the whole time, it seemed, setting everything up and then tearing it all down.

She wanted to die and I wanted her to live and we were enemies who loved each other.

Can't you just be like the rest of us, normal and sad and fucked up and alive and remorseful?

At least we have rage and we will build empires with that, gentlemen.