...you canʹt always choose how you love a person. Love isnʹt logical or fair. It just happens.

It was Nick's voice Nick's arms. He turned me on my back and swam with me, pulling me to the bank.

People fear anyone who differs from what is considered normal, and in a small town the idea of normal can be as narrow as the streets.

I leaned back against him and rested my cheek on his shoulder. I could feel the river water dripping off of him. "Thank you" I whispered. When I looked up, I saw he was crying.

Words are precious things meant to create, to imagine, to dream with.

When a writer looked at an empty computer screen, what did she see? Tristan wondered. A movie screen ready to be lit with faces? A night sky with one small star blinking at the top, a universe ready to be written on? Endless possibilities. Love's endless twists and turns - and all love's impossibilities.

He had told her he would love her forever, but he could not stay with her. From that time on, she couldn't see his glow or hear his voice in her head. Could he still hear her? Was he even aware of her existence?