We all have to feel empty sometimes.

Losing people you love affects you. It is buried inside of you and becomes this big, deep hole of ache. It doesn't magically go away, even when you stop officially mourning.

The ending has to fit. The ending has to matter, and make sense. I could care less about whether it's happy or sad or atomic. The ending is the place where you go, “Aha. Of course. That's right.”

Sometimes that whys aren't knowable, so you just have to ignore the whys, and just focus on what is and move on.

Why are there no names for the abscence of things? Why is there no name for the abscence of humanity?

Loving you is a full-time job. It's a great job, don't get me wrong. It's the best job in the universe. But it's not easy.

Nobody is perfect, though. We all want everyone to think we are, but perfection is some crazy mythical state that we can never achieve. It is a goal beyond our grasp, always shifting and changing and taunting us, because it knows...it knows we can never reach it.