My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

The only thing about myself I know for sure is that I don't know anything.

I'm in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.

Have you ever once in your life reached out to touch infinity?

Standing Here My entire world far beneath my feet, I should be filled with pride. Instead, I feel overwhelmed by a sense of defeat. Suddenly it comes to me, toes tempted to test the ledge, that there is a way out of this. Clam surety flows through my veins, and as I turn to wave good-bye, I wonder if it will hurt or if a single person will cry at my funeral. I take a deep breath, a final taste of sweet mountain air. I conjure Leona, Emily. Move my feet closer. Closer There's Grandma One, Grandma Two, and their spouses, waiting for me. I see Dad. Cara. Mommy. I screw up my courage, step over

I whisper and you close your eyes. I speak and you turn away. If I scream, will you finally hear me beg you to hold me close to you, promise you'll never let go?