What woman worth her femininity has ever told all of her story?  As the gods do, we reveal ourselves - if we reveal ourselves at all - to whom we choose and in our own good time.

You see, I am not at all certain that I'd ever witnessed love.  Before you and him.  It's rare enough, you know.  Certainly I'd never felt it - or even mistaken it - for myself.  Even the thought of happiness terrifies me.  Fragile as a blown rose.  Why would anyone choose happiness over the long-enduring qualities of fear and pain?  I've often wondered if fear and pain would die, too, if I'd only let them.  If I would stop caring for them, fussing over them.