Bee. Again.

Long after she'd left Eric, she lay in her sleeping bag. She shivered. Her eyes were full. They dripped. From sadness, or strangeness, or love. They were the kind of tears that came when she was just too full. She needed to make a little room. She stared at the sky. It was bigger tonight. Tonight her thoughts roamed out into it, and like Diana had said, they didn't find anything to bounce off. They just went and went until nothing felt real. Not even the thoughts. Not even thinking itself...

Bridget pulled her thoughts back in, coiling them like a kite string.

Carefully she rolled her sleeping bag under her arm and crept back into the cabin. She lay down, her back flat on the bed. Tonight she would let her thoughts stray no farther than the weathered planks.

- The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Ann Brashares


Sometimes I feel like I'm Bee -- too full of emotion that I just have to cry to make room -- to focus on work, to love, to move on... A girl who often loses herself in her thoughts. Someone with high highs and low lows, emotionally unstable, loves passionately, falls deeply, an emotional rollercoaster. That's Bee. That's me.