Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle-it suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key. It's not an act of bitterness. It's an act if self-preservation. It's not always a bad idea to stay behind the window and look out at life instead, is it?

When we read dystopia, we root for these people to break free because we are these people; hoping and fighting against things that are bigger than ourselves.

I am trapped in glass and I want to break out and breath deep but I´m too afraid that it will hurt.

Do you think you could let someone go if you thought it was best for them?

Is falling in love with someone's story the same thing as falling in love with the person himself?

And I laugh at myself for thinking I could touch the sky.

You cannot change your journey if you are unwilling to move at all.