I was attempting to write the story of my life. It wasn't so much about plot. It was much more about character.

Self-preservation isn't worth it if you can't live with the self you're preserving

It is its own form of conversation -- you can learn a lot about people from the stories they tell, but you can also know them from the way they sing along, whether they like the windows up or down, if they live by the map or by the world, if they feel the pull of the ocean.

When someone breaks up with you, their beauty-- which you took such satisfaction in-- suddenly becomes unfair.

She is carrying herself through the day, and it’s not an easy task.

Maybe relationships could have fractals, too. And maybe the sense of loss was when you're becoming a fractal of what you once were to each other.

The word I think of is precarious. I am struck by how precarious it all is. How the things that hold us are only as strong as the faith we have in them.