I don't cry. I never cry. I've been told I was a very quiet baby. I don't cry when I'm wounded. I don't cry when I'm humiliated. As pathetic and gloomy the world is, I don't cry about it.
One morning I awoke to find the man I loved gone. A letter was all that remained behind, a letter explaining that he had joined the Avatar. He had betrayed our country, our people—he betrayed me.
Yet, somehow, though my heart was shattered, I did not hate him for what he had done. I couldn't.
And I did not cry.