This Is What Daughters Did.

It Wasn't Like I Was Some Expert On The Meaning Of Being Supportive. Was It Being Loyal Even Against Your Better Judgement? Or, Like Olivia, Was It Making Your Displeasure Known From The Start, Even When Someone Didn't Want To Hear It?

I Knew I Had To Keep Him To Myself, As I'd Slowly Begun To Keep Everything. We Had Secrets Now, Truths And Half-truths, That Kept Her Always At Arm's Length, Behind A Closed Door, Miles Away.

Watching Him, I Thought, Not For The First Time That Night, That Maybe It Should Have Felt Strange To Be With Him, Here, Now. And Yet It Didn’t, At All. That Was One Of The Things About The Night. Stuff That Would Be Weird In The Bright Light Of Day Just Wasn’t So Much Once You Passed A Certain Hour. It Was Like The Dark Just Evened It All Out Somehow.

Maybe Marriage, Like Life, Is'nt Only About The Big Moments, Whether They Be Good Or Bad. Maybe It's All The Small Things — Like Being Guided Slowly Forward, Surely, Day After Day — That Stretches Out To Strengthen Even The Most Tenuous Bond.

I Just Can't Ever Be A Free Spirit And Just Relax. When It Comes To Work, This Is Good. I'm Very Disciplined, Which With Writing Is Often Half The Battle, Or More. But It Also Means That If I Want To, Say, Play Hooky And Chocolate And Watch Bravo All Afternoon, I Feel Horribly Guilty. I Wish I Could Find A Nice Balance.