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.

To love--to fall--is not a question. To touch--to kiss--to speak--those are questions.

I asked you what you wanted and you said you didn't want anything. And I told you I wasn't planning on giving you anything; I was planning on giving you something.

It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason.

You know what happens to girls who loves lost boys? They become lost themselves.

As long as we can conjure, who needs anything else? As long as we can agree on the magical lie and be happy, what more is there to ask for? “I loved you from that moment on,” I say. “I loved you from that moment on,” you agree.

Because what's the point of something virtual if it doesn't end up being real?