There is no such thing as no choice. There is always a choice. The only question is whether it's a bearable one.

Are you going to be playing for the pure thrill of unreluctant desire?

The older I get, the more I lose my ability to breathe.

And still, for all the jealously, all the doubt, sometimes I will be struck with a kind of awe that we're together. That someone like me could find someone like you --- it renders me wordless. Because surely words would conspire against such luck, would protest the unlikelihood of such a turn of events.

Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.

There was a pause. I was still scared by every gap in our conversation, fearing that this was it, the point where we had nothing left to say. I was still trying to impress you, and I still wanted to be impressed by you, so I could pass along pieces of your impressiveness to my friends, convincing myself this was possible.

I can't pretend to know what love is. It just is.