Nolan could sense that something was wrong. He didn't accuse me of lying, but he knew something was deeply off. I tried to explain about my dreams of traveling, but they must have sounded as far-fetched as a librarian who strips. We began fighting more and more, and more than once we thought we might break up. But I held on. I didn't want to let him go, because if I did, it would be like letting a part of myself go. The girl I thought I was. I wanted to still be Ariel, not Rose. I tried talking to Nick about how I felt. I knocked on the door, which was already half open, hearing the sounds of League of Legends."Nick, can I talk to you for a minute?""Yeah, sure." He opened the door a little wider, so I could step in. Candy bar wrappers and Mountain Dew bottles littered the room. The familiar smell of sweet hay and sweat mingled in the cold AC. "Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?" I asked. Nick leaned back in his chair. "Have you done yours?" he rejoined. "Of course." Not fo

It is very easy to fall. It is so easy to slide headfirst down the slippery slope, because you've already made so many concessions before the moment of truth. You've worn yourself down so much that making one more bad decision doesn't seem all that bad. It's so easy to point at Eve and say, "Look at that disgraced whore, taking the first bite." But the serpent was the most crafty of all the animals, including the dynamic duo in the garden. He knew exactly which things to say to Eve, how to persuade her, how to guide her to the edge of the cliff and take the plunge herself. All Eve ever wanted was wisdom. I've always been fascinated by the story of Dr. Faust. It seems relatively straightforward: don't sell your soul to the Devil. But how do you resist someone who promises you the very thing that you can never have and is the one thing you desire most of all? Faust, like Eve, sought knowledge. He wanted to know to understand, to see the biggest picture of all. He had already started do

In the end, I stopped because the mask was becoming too real. I didn't know where it stopped and where I started anymore. We're all divided; we have a left brain and a right brain that forms a whole greater than the sum of its parts. We all have the constant inner battle of feeding two wolves, of choosing good over evil. We are all Two-Face, split between virtue and vice, logic and emotion, and loyalty and fallibility. At the end, we are only what we seem to people based on what they perceive we are. I quit because Rose and Ariel were becoming blurred; I was lying in "real" life even when I didn't have to. It could be over something as innocuous as what I had eaten for lunch. I could have had soup, but I would say "sandwich." I started lying about things that I didn't have to lie about, and the habit was so ingrained that I couldn't stop myself. I could feel the lies in my stomach, bubble up through my throat, and leave my lips without thinking why I was doing it. I hid everything

Quitting stripping was like falling into a pit of thorns. Well, maybe stripping itself was like falling into a pit of thorns, but quitting was like waking up in the pit and realizing, "Oh shit, I'm covered in fucking thorns." Over the course of the next year, I slowly but surely started to pull the thorns out one by one, and each one felt like a little blade slicing through my skin. The thing about thorns, too, is that infection spreads faster than you think. I had changed in ways that I didn't realize I had: I was more callous, more selfish, more money-obsessed. The aim of stripping was to manipulate people for money, and I didn't stop with strangers. People I loved became like money faucets in my mind: my parents, my grandparents, my friends: anyone who would give me money turned into a fixed dollar amount per month in my mind, and if they didn't give me money, it either meant that they didn't love me or I didn't care enough to bother with them. Of course, quitting, even abruptly

My redemption came from a place called Rowlett. The summer can be the busiest time for a public library, since many "Summer Reading Programs," generally take place to help encourage kids to read during the time away from school. The Rowlett Public Library was looking for a temporary, part-time library assistant to help ease the burden of all the excess foot traffic. Kids and their parents would come in flocks and droves to pick up books and weekly prizes for reading. The number of patrons per day doubled what it was during the winter. I didn't care that the post was only for four months, and that it was 23 miles away down I-30. It was $15 an hour for 25 hours per week, and that was a bounty compared to the previous year of fifty bucks here and there. When I interviewed, I tried to apply the lessons I had learned from some of my more disastrous interviews and tried to appear eager, competent, and intelligent. I didn't just want a job; I wanted one in a physical place, where I had a se