"But I saw her. I saw all of her, every time I looked at her, maybe even through her, right down to the dark, dusty corners of her mind that she tried to keep hidden from the rest of the world. Not from me, though. She didn’t care if I saw because I didn’t care that those dark, dusty corners existed. Hell, if she wanted my help, I’d sweep the mess up with her. But I liked the cobwebs. The dust. The darkness. The anger. The bitterness. The mass of colorful rugs that she tried to sweep everything under that just weren’t large enough. And I think she liked the mess, too. Because, somewhere in there, when the world disappointed her, there was a place for her to retreat. A place full of familiarity."