Call It Crazy, Or Just

For Two Hours I'd Felt Myself Stretching Tighter And Tighter, Like A Rubber Band Pulled To The Point Of Snapping. And Now, I Could Feel The Smaller, Weaker Part Of Myself Beginning To Fray, Tiny Bits Giving Way Before The Big Break.

Home Wasn't A Set House, Or A Single Town On A Map. It Was Wherever The People Who Loved You Were, Whenever You Were Together. Not A Place, But A Moment, And Then Another, Building On Each Other Like Bricks To Create A Solid Shelter That You Take With You For Your Entire Life, Wherever You May Go.

All Those Clean, Fresh Starts Had Made Me Forget What It Was Like, Until Now, To Be Messy And Honest And Out Of Control. To Be Real.

I Mean, To Me, Freaking Out Is Different. More Of A Running Away, Not Telling Anyone What's Wrong, Slowly Simmering Until You Burst Kind Of Thing.

"which Is Completely Out-of-line Behavior. Then You Are Wholly Within Your Rights To Stomp On Their Foot." "no," Delia Said, Over Her Shoulder. "actually, You're Not. Just Excuse Yourself As Politely As Possible, And Get Out Of Arm's Reach." Kristy Looked At Me, Shaking Her Head. "stomp Them." She Said, Under Her Breath. "really."