I Am Such A Pacific

Then He Left Her There, Standing Alone, Surrounded By Word Ghosts; Things She Could Have Said.

Some Stories Don't Have Happy Endings. Even Love Stories. Maybe Especially Love Stories.

Lately He'd Been Seen Going Out Less And Less, Becoming That Strangest Of Animals In A Small Town: A Loner.

They Would Always Be A Family, But If She'd Learned Anything In The Past Few Weeks It Was That A Family Wasn't A Static Thing. There Were Always Changes Going On. Like With Continents, Sometimes The Changes Were Invisible And Underground, And Sometimes They Were Explosive And Deadly. The Trick Was To Keep Your Balance. You Couldn't Control The Direction Of Your Family Any More Than You Could Stop The Continental Shelf From Breaking Apart. All You Could Do Was Hold On For The Ride.

...this Fear Was Unbearable. It Unwrapped Who She Was, As Neatly As He'd Unwound Her Bandage, Leaving Too Much Pain And Ugliness Exposed. Nerve Endings; He'd Said They Were The Problem [causing Phantom Pain In The Amputated Limb]." Things That Cut Off, That Ended Abruptly Or Died--like Parents And Marriages--kept Hurting Forever.