And when the line goes dead, and the e-mails stop coming. That’s when I pray the hardest. When every inch of my being wants to steal my mother’s credit card and go rescue her. Morals are a hard thing to choose between. That time is now. There’s a ringing in my ear, no new mail to check, no way to stop her from doing something stupid, something she regrets every time. And I don’t care that there’s a routine, and I don’t care that life is cruel, because she’s stronger than she knows and more loved that she knows. I love her, Lord, more than any other friend I have, because we’re the same. Except I crawled out of the gutter and she didn’t, I laughed again without fear of a man and she can’t. I need her, please don’t let her take herself away from me, and don’t you do the same because I promise you, I won’t stay parted from her. I won’t… I can’t.