The little things that happen. Sometimes they're insignificant; other times, they change everything.

It's ok if you want to stop fighting.

So, this is how it's become? This is how I've become? A walking contradiction? I'm surrounded by people and feel alone. I claim to crave a bit of normalcy but now that I have some, it's like I don't know what to do with it, I don't know how to be a normal person anymore.

I don’t discount a magical hand of fate. I am an actor, after all, and a Shakespearian, no less. But it can’t be the ruling force of your life. You have to be the driver.

That’s the thing you never expect about grieving, what a competition it is.

Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that’s what it’s like, I wouldn’t mind.

And yes, it was a high school romance, but it was still the kind of romance where I thought we were trying to find a way to make it forever.