To me that’s what the story is about. The things we do to ourselves. The way we hurt ourselves and mark ourselves.

He who fights with monsters should be careful that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche.

He wanted to ravage her in a way that would change her, indelibly bind her to him so that neither of them could break loose.

I’m not trying to get out. I’m trying to stay in.

Anything you do with other people ends up being a performance.

Do you know, bella? I hurt with it, how pretty you are.

A slightly perverted adventure of questionable consent, but beggars like me couldn’t be choosers.

How am I supposed to be interested in boys who are dancing in clubs, when this man has kissed me? How can I be satisfied with warmth when I know how it feels to burn?

Every myth has some basis in fact, which is why the study of ancient history is so important. Archeology can uncover some of the secrets. Myths whisper the rest of what we know. In that way myths provide more room for error and more room for discovery.

He had been a little drunk himself. Not enough to play volleyball with the drinkware, but enough that his eyes had gleamed with a distant sadness. He pulled me close, and I nestled against him the way I had as a little girl, breathing in the cedar-salt scent of him. “I love your mother,” he said then, present tense. He loves her.