Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, “How do you bear it?”
Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of  n i g h t m a r e s each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” Something in my expression stops him. “Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to  f a l l  a p a r t.”