He told me that love was the only thing that really mattered in the world.

I wondered if the person who really loves you is the person who knows all your stories, the person who WANTS to know all your stories.

"I accept your condemnation," I said.

Oh," says Owen, "but I would have, you know." "I know you would have," says Liz, "and knowing you would have is nearly as good.

It was strange, really. A couple months ago, I had thought I couldn’t live without him. Apparently I could.

The casualities seemed to go on and on. Just when I thought I was done losing her, I would find yet another way to love her all over again.

Each period had required me to be a slightly different person, and that was exhausting. I wondered if school had always felt this way and whether it was like this for everone.