Trying to write about love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary represent life. No matter how many words there are, there will never be enough.

I am learning that a life isn't real unless someone else knows its reality. And I want my life to be real.

Our lives change. Our feelings for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air changes. The temperature of the shower changes. Accept this. We must accept this.

Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone.

This isn't even something I've feared, because I never knew it was a possibility.

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

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