Even if you find him. Even if he didn’t leave you on purpose, he can’t possibly live up to the person you’ve built him into.

It's funny the things you think you're scared of until they're upon you, and then you're not.

All relationships are tough. Just like with music, sometimes you have harmony and other times you have cacophony.

The politeness was painful. I wanted to push through it, to return to the glow of the night of the concert, but I was unsure of how to get back there.

The boogeyman sleeps on your side of the bad Whispers in my ear :"Better of Dead" Fills my dreams with sirens and lights of regret Kisses me gently when i wake up in a sweat "boo!

Even if you find him. Even if he didn't leave you on purpose, he can't possibly live up to the person you've built him into." It's not like the thought hasn't occurred to me. I get that the chances of finding him are small, but the chances of finding him as I remember him are even smaller. But I just keep going back to what my dad always says, about how when you lose something, you have to visualize the last place you had it. And I found―and then lost―so many things in Paris.

Even if you find him. Even if he didn’t leave you on purpose, he can’t possibly live up to the person you’ve built him into.