. I felt the sun graze my face as I sped further and further from it all. The only negative part about running was that at some point I knew I’d have to stop. I’d have to turn around and go back. And whatever troubles had haunted me when I left, would be waiting upon my return.
My courage is faith-faith in the eternal resilience of me-that joy'll come back, and hope and spontaneity. And I feel that till it does I've got to keep my lips shut and my chin high and my eyes wide-not necessarily any silly smiling. Oh, I've been through hell without a whine quite often-and the female hell is deadlier than the male.
He was changed, burned, branded, destroyed and rebuilt. And he loved it.
He had a sadness in his eyes that Carrie recognised as regret.
Love …is not enough. It’s something deeper, stronger, and harder, almost painful. Something I want to keep inside of me forever, but at the same time throw it away because I know having it so deep and feeling it so strong can only be detrimental for me. I have others to think about. I have a different kind of priority.
I had avoided writing about love. I had never sensed that rush and buzz that comes with love, the release into the brain of body chemicals, pheromones and dopamine - the taste of love to which I was becoming addicted, his spearminty tongue when we kissed, his male sweat, the outdoor vanilla tang of his semen.
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