Whenever I share with someone the ways I've tortured and belittled myself for nearly a decade, it seems as if I'm flashing them a glimpse of a weeping wound I've been picking to shreds for days in the dark, alone.

What's more, and what's more painful, is that it doesn't feel any better to have them know it's there.

[I could give you]

Turns out Mom was profoundly (yet inexplicably) lonely in college, too.

[White.]

I am often paralyzed by the knowledge that someday everyone I love will be gone.

[No human tree can compete.]

I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate* hate hate giving speeches.

*hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate

(the trees are getting harder to climb)

They say that the body's largest organ is the skin.

My mom's is, without a doubt, her heart.

I was a complete loser in junior high school; on Friday nights I'd do my homework, and then the fun REALLY got started, 'cause then I'd clean the house for my mom.

Wheee! Livin' large.

[Never meant to clip your pretty wings.]

Baby shoulda been in therapy years ago.

Hey, I'm still alive.

[do you miss my all-time lows?]

Sad, sickening songs are the blood-troubles of this apartment.

And books from not-forgotten loves, those too.

I remember, strangely, that Max was upset by the way that Stephanie treated Stephane.