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!

Life is a big fat gigantic stinking mess, that's the beauty of it, too.

Adam lay perfectly still, little groans escaping from his lips. I looked at the bow, looked at my hands, looked at Adam's face and felt this surge of love, lust, and an unfamiliar feeling of power.

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.

Losing me will hurt; it will be the kind of pain that won't feel real at first, and when it does, it will take her breath away.

All night long if you want. We'll tell our secrets to the dark.

I get it now. I have to make good on my promise. To let her go. To really let her go. To let us both go.