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

Let’s make plans,” I ventured. And Sofia smiled and said, “No, let’s leave it to chance.

this might be the happy ending without the ending

The truth feels different from other things. The closest you can come to describing it is that it feels like taking a perfect breath.

It is much harder to lie to someone's face. But. It is also much harder to tell the truth to someone's face.

hubris, n. Every time I call you mine, I feel like I'm forcing it, as if saying it can make it so. As if I'm reminding you, and reminding the universe: mine. As if that one word from me could have that kind of power.

I am not dangerous. Only the stories are dangerous. Only the fictions we create, especially when they become expectations.