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.

I don't know who I am. Or maybe I do know who I am and I just don't want to be her anymore.

Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.

He looks at one of the pictures for a long time. Then he looks at me. "I'll keep you up here." He taps his temple. "Where you can't get lost.

In the lead-up to the launch of my new book I Was Here, I’ve seen a lot of discussion about depression and suicide and mental health and YA dealing with such intense matters. What I haven’t seen discussed is kittens.

Traveling isn't something you're good at. It's something you do. Like breathing.

I don’t want to be that person, who just takes things.