There's a gentleness about April that made me ache. It seemed like I was always on the run, always working and chasing some goal or another, but April had a way of holding me still. And then I'd begin to hurt and yearn for something I couldn't describe, something I hadn't known yet. All I knew was the ache itself and the strange, sweet feeling it was.

This isn't a game for me. I love you, Ivy, and one day you're going to believe me.

What do you do with your anger when the person you're mad at goes off and dies? Bury it? Bury it inside you?

He can't remeber who he is or where he lives." "Well that's convenient." "Not when it rains.

Hey, does my stupidity give you the right to bruise a tender heart?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm bruising a heart made of Play-Doh.

The truth was, it was myself I couldn't trust, my eyes from betraying my heart.

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.