Yes it's difficult. Yes it's horrible. Yes it's the worst thing that has ever happen in my whole life. But I just can't give up.

Tonight I'm happy. I will worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. But I'm getting there.

I don't know why men like to barbecue so much. Maybe its the only thing they can cook. Or maybe they're just closet pyromaniacs.

I guess when you’re trying to find all the parts of yourself, it’s difficult to be with someone who’s already fully intact.

Don't mind all those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month or two. Grieving is all part of helping yourself anyway.

What seems tragic now won't even be an issue in a few years time.

It's funny how people mark their lives, the benchmarks they choose to decide when the moment is more of a moment than any other. For life is made of them. I like to think the best ones of all are in my mind, that they run through my blood in their own memory bank for no one else but me to see.