That no matter what i did, I would always be missing something else. And the only way to live, the only way to be happy, was to make sure the things I didn't miss meant more to me than the things I missed.

She stays in the same spot, anchored by the profound, desperate loneliness of a bad relationship.

Which is more stubborn, the love or the two arguing people caught within it?

I was sixteen and equipped with the appropriate genitalia, so I cleared that hurdle nicely.

If you start the day reading the obituaries, you live your day a little differently.

you’d think that silence would be peaceful. but really, it’s painful.

I want you to be honest with me. Even if it hurts. Although I would prefer for it not to hurt.