What's that sound I hear? It's just my lifetime It's whistling past my ear

The line between true self and feigned self is blurred on all sides. Which I think is a rather handy metaphor for falling in love.

he kissed me hard. "Promise me. Promise me you'll spend New Year's with me next year," he whispered into my ear.

It doesn't rain every day. Just every other day.

It was selfish what I asked her to do, even if it wound up being the most unselfish thing I've ever done.

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!

I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting.