It's goodbye to some things. And hello to others.

I have already spent roughly five thousand hours asleep next to you. This has to mean something.

Every person is a possibility. The hopeless romantics feel it most acutely, but even for others, the only way to keep going is to see every person as a possibility.

me: you know what sucks about love? o.w.g.: what? me: that it's so tied to the truth.

Once time is lit, it will burn whether or not you're breathing it in. Even after smoke becomes air, there is the memory of smoke. I am seeing as if by the light of a match, a glimpse of my life and having it feel right.

Even though it was hard to see you, it was good to see you.

That strange, twisted, torn love. That conflict between what your heart knows is right and what your mind is told is right.