All this hoping for something- or someone- that's maybe hopeless. I'm having a hard time processing what I am supposed to believe, or if I'm even supposed to. There is too much information, and I don't like a lot of it.

What did it matter to me? Did I think that by making you rational about one thing, I could make you rational about everything? Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to save you from your fears

I'm swimming in your cadences that you permeate my very language.

I don’t like it when you use my shampoo, because then your hair smells like me, not you.

I try to convince myself that it's the alcohol talking. But alcohol can't talk. It just sits there. It can't even get itself out of the bottle.

Magic naturally fades over distance. But proximity - well, when it works, proximity amplifies magic.

Here's what breaks us: Even though we know better, we still want everything to be all right.