”She sees the pain in my eyes as I remember my past. I let her know, “You already know my family did not love me. In my first life, they were neve... thrown in jail. I continued to be abused for years. Throughout my entire life, there were only ever two people that loved me, and both refused to admit it. One girl, I was spending at least 40 hours a week with, usually much more than that. Every time she looked at me, I could see how much she loved me. I wasn’t the only one to see it, so I know I. I thought from time to time about growing up, whether I would go to collegeagain, what kind of career I might have, how soon I might marry, how manychildren of my own I wanted. All the sorts of things young girls dreamabout. The only difference was I had experienced it all before, but from theother, less green, side of the fence.I also found myself wondering what kind of realtionship I might have withher as an adult. Would we remain close? What might my future husband andchildren think of. More

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