Finally, I formulate and say a little prayer to God, and since we haven’t officially spoken since my mom and Elliott died that takes up quite a bit of my time. The rest of it I spend on trying to determine what I think love really is and what I actually feel for Tally Landon at this point. Upon deep reflection, I realize that I must be at the edge of life’s abyss. This is me. All there is left of me; and yet, I’m looking over and contemplating its meaning on whether to jump or stay. I’m not sure this feeling for Tally Landon is made up of love any more than it is of hate. This must be a kind of purgatory—the in-between place—because these pervasive feelings of rage and passion for Tally are equalized and actually co-mingle together—like fire and water—each ready to extinguish the other. I’ve come to accept the truth. There may be nothing left for us. It could go either way.
Katherine Owen, This Much is True
love-hurts, sad-reality, truth-and-lies