In Some Parts Of The Ancient World,

I Am A Child. I Am Two Feet Tall, And Asking If She Loves Me.

I Do Like To Hit People-i Like The Explosion Of Power And Energy, And The Feeling That I Am Untouchable Because I Can Hurt People. But I Hate That Part Of Myself, Because It Is The Part Of Me That Is The Most Broken

About When To Let Others Sacrifice Themselves For You, Even If Its Selfish. They Say That If The Sacrifice Is The Ultimate Way For That Person To Show You That They Love You, Let Them Do It.

I Can't Tell Him I Need Him. I Can't Need Him, Period -- Or Really, We Can't Need Each Other, Because Who Knows How Long Either Of Us Will Last In This War?

I Look Out The Window Again, Taking Slow, Deep Breaths Into A Body Too Tense To Move. And As I Stare Out At The Land, I Think That This, If Nothing Else, Is Compelling Evidence For My Parents’ God, That Our World Is So Massive That It Is Completely Out Of Our Control, That We Cannot Possibly Be As Large As We Feel. -tris Prior