If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?

You?' is all I can manage to choke out. 'Always me,' she replies softly, bashfully. 'Who else?

If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?

Or maybe it's not a miracle. Maybe this is just life. When you open yourself up to it. When you put yourself in the path of it. When you say yes.

And I kissed him back so hard, like I was trying to merge our bodies through our lips.

She left for Juilliard the day after Labor Day. I drove her to the airport. She kissed me good-bye. She told me that she loved me more than life itself. Then she stepped through security. She never came back.

You just work through it. You just hang in there.