And so it is that you learn how to pass, if you're lucky, to look like everyone else, even though you're broken inside.

I've come to think that's what heaven is- a place in the memory of others where our best selves live on.

You got to learn to take what people are willing to give.

It's human nature to want to think the best of others, but if you listen carefully, people will always tell you who they are.

And so it is that you learn how to pass, if you're lucky, to look like everyone else, even though you're broken inside.

I like the assumption that everyone is trying his best, and we should all just be kind to each other.

I love you," he writes again and again. "I can't bear to live without you. I'm counting the minutes until I see you." The words he uses are the idioms of popular songs and poems in the newspaper. And mine to him are no less cliched. I puzzle over the onionskin, trying to spill my heart onto the page. But I can only come up with the same words, in the same order, and hope the depth of feeling beneath them gives them weight and substance. I love you. I miss you. Be careful. Be safe.