Sometimes, when I'm alone, I cry, 'cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life, but take no form. I cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friends, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on?

The term trying to forget someone is so awful because you'll never forget someone if you're trying to forget them.

Don't worry. You may think you'll never get over it. But you also thought it would last forever.

Art keeps me alive. I've obviously been devastated or heartbroken all my life, since my mother's death.

Sometimes, you promise someone forever, but it doesn't work that way.

You dig deep beyond those scars and find that soft tissue again, and you massage and nurture it and bring it to life, little by little, through serving yourself well. I did it through hikes and vitamins and therapy and prayer and good friends.