Outside, the dogs whine over the wind. They sense the wolves - they sense the wild. It calls to them, like it calls to me, and I wonder sometimes if we are the only ones who hear it.

Despite everything, every piece of Alaska sang to me. I remembered every curve in the trails, every tree in the forest. It was familiar to me, comfortable. The more I thought about leaving it, the less I liked the idea. This was my home.

Grief is like an ocean. It comes in waves - some waves are bigger than others and you cannot prepare for it.

Alaska was the cure to the disease of my despair.

I didn't care, because I loved him, and that was the end of every argument and the beginning of every promise.