Love and I once had a great relationship, but I fear we've broken up. It cheated on me, wrecked my heart, and then went on to date other people. A lot of other people. And I can't stand to watch it, since love's going to cheat on them too.

But you have to figure that if it’s too hard to hang on, then maybe you should let go.

Every day I am someone else. I am myself-I know I am myself-but I am also someone else. It has always been like this.

You were in Sweden?" Boomer asked. "No," I said. "The trip got called off at the last minute. Because of political the unrest" "In Sweden?" Priya seemed skeptical. "Yeah-isn't it strange how the Times isn't covering it? Half the country's on strike because of that thing the crown prince said about Pippi Longstocking Which means no meatballs for Christmas, if you know what I mean." "That's so sad!" Boomer said.

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

I could point out that it isn't always easy knowing who you are and what you want, because then you have no excuse for not trying to get it.

A year. A thousand kisses. And now a thousand one, a thousand two. There are so many other place we could have ended up, but I have to believe none of them would have felt this right. "All I want is you" is not entirely true. I want so much more, and with you I think I can get it.