If I were to go through Wild by Cheryl Strayed and highlight all that resonates with me at this moment, I should turn the pages yellow. From the first time I read it over four years ago, I felt a flicker of recognition in her words. A small flame was lit, and I knew I wanted something more.

Maybe it is easier to leave something that you once found beautiful if you let it slowly die first. A rose whose petals are withered and fading tugs less on the heartstrings than one still in full bloom.

This girl, all alone in a graveyard, raised so many questions. What drove her to drink two bottles of wine today? Why did she choose to drink here? What in her life had led her to this moment? Why was she all alone?