The fact is...I'm in love with you, and I have been for some time.

I could feel the warmth of his presence as if a soft blanket had been wrapped around my soul, around my heart. It held me and protected me. It sheltered me and I knew I wasn't alone anymore.

What is real and what is not is for your heart to decide and for your heart to know.

How do I get past my fears? Make a life for myself? Risk loving someone? When death is all that waits for you, what's the point in trying to have a life?

Tarzan-like men are my weakness, apparently.

Your heart knows. Your soul remembers.

Why does everything so bad for you always taste so dreamy?