He’s the ocean roaring into my life, an ocean whose depths I can’t resist even though I must. I want him, but I’m not supposed to want more. And yet, when I look at him, this damaged artist, this kindred soul who paints my dark world with his laughter and his pain, I want to give in…

But I can’t, not when I’m not the one he sees, not when doing so would mean losing my voice all over again.

She’s the wave crashing through my world, the wave that brought me to my knees and threatens to sweep me under. I want her, but I’m not supposed to want more. And yet, when I look at her, this paperbag princess, this impossible minx who dances her way into my dark, I start to lose control…

But I can’t, not when I have nothing left to give, not when doing so would mean digging into the wounds of my past all over again.