I'm not sure this is a world I belong in anymore. I'm not sure that I want to wake up.

Sometimes you can only feel something by its absence. By the empty spaces it leaves behind.

Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it's the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open.

Because for that day, I really did become Lulu. Maybe not from the film or the real Louise Brooks, but my own idea of what Lulu represented. Freedom. Daring. Adventure. Saying yes.

You were so busy trying to be my savior that you left me all alone.

Loving someone is such an inherently dangerous act. And yet, love, that’s where safety lives.

As the lightness buoys me, I wonder if maybe she was right. Maybe it's not about looking hot for guys, but about feeling like a place acknowledged you, winked at you, accepted you. It's strange because, of all the people in all the cities, I'd have thought that to Parisians I'd be invisible, but apparently I'm not. Apparently in Paris, not only can I skate, but I practically qualify for the Olympics!