It feels like I am wasting time. I mean, that's always the case. My life doesn't add up to anything.

That's what the voices in your head are for, to get you through the silent parts.

Please may this not be a game. Please may this not be a game. Because if it’s a game, I know I’m going to lose.

I want to take back the secrets I told you so I can decide now whether to tell them to you again. I want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly miss it. I want to take back at least half the “I love you”s, because it feels safer that way.

I am breathing. In dreams, we never bother to breathe.

Life goes on is a redundancy. Life is defined by its going on.

It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I've gotten it backward, maybe it's just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don't think that's it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn't happened to meet her.