Maybe there is hope in the fragments, that what is lost can always be filled in by someone who knows.

Is that all we need? Can the way we say each other's names encompass all our history, all our love, all our fear, all our fights, all our reunions, all of what we know about each other, all of what we don't know?

We found out a long time ago that we weren’t meant to fall in love with each other. But a part of me still fell in hope with him.

You never let things go unanswered for too long. Emails. Phone calls. Questions. As if you know the waiting is the hardest part for me.

There is the sudden. There is the eventual. And in between, there is the living.

I want to write my life. I want to be able to write my life. You are a second away from saying it. You have no idea how much I love you.

Every time you love someone, you put not just your faith in them, but your faith in everything to the test.