it is so unfair that he lives in ohio, because that should be close enough, but since neither of us drives and neither of us would ever in a million years say, 'hey, mom, do you want to drive me across indiana to see a boy?,' we're kind of stuck.

Maybe there is hope in the fragments, that what is lost can always be filled in by someone who knows.

We hold hands as we walk through town. If anybody notices, nobody cares. I know we all like to think of the heart as the center of the body but at this moment, every conscious part of me is in the hand that he holds. It is through that hand, that feeling, that I experience everything else.

It would be too easy to say that I feel invisible. Instead, I feel painfully visible, and entirely ignored.

Some days are like this. And the only way to get through them is to remember that they are only one day, and that every day ends.

I can flirt with the best of them, but only when it doesn't matter.

When you need to hold onto something, you should. Whatever gets you through, take it.