We can get so wrapped up in our own misconceptions that we miss the simple beauty of the truth.

It was all the things you could never understand and could never possess that made you ache.

A person could leave you so quickly. So much history and time and memories, but they snuck away from you, and other things took their place. How could you hold on? Wait. A bigger question. The biggest. How could you hold on and let go?

We are thickly layered, page lying upon page, behind simple covers. And love - it is not the book itself, but the binding.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

Another person is, at the heart of it, unknowable. And if you cannot know a person enough to always guess what they’re capable of, you certainly cannot know them enough to hold them in your hands, to control their behavior, to fight, manipulate, cajole or nurse or soothe them into doing what they should or shouldn’t. People will do what they will do. The trick is admitting your own helplessness about that little fact.

I would have spoken, had my heart not been in my throat