It's a lot easier to understand things once you name them. It's the unknown that mostly freaks me out. I don't know the name of that fear, but I know I've got it, the fear of the unknown.

I used to be embarrassed by my mom, but now I know what she is-she's a hero.

A cheerleader? Do I look like a guy who'd be interested in talking to a cheerleader?

It is love which made all this. War which protects it. With love comes responsibility and possibility, fear and hopes, quests and suffering.

Is everyone as wrong about me as I am about them?

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.

You know, life fractures us all into little pieces. It harms us, but it's how we glue those fractures back together that make us stronger.