Whoever said that the past isn't dead had it backward. It's the future that's already dead, already played out.

Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it's the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open.

We are like Humpty Dumpty and all these king's horses and all these king's men cannot put us back together again

Sometimes we meet people and are so symbiotic with them, it's as if we are one person, with one mind, one destiny

When I was little, I used to go to the local ice-skating rink. In my mind, I always felt like I could twirl and jump, but when I got out onto the ice, I could barely keep my blades straight. When I got older, that's how it was with people: In my mind, I am bold and forthright, but what comes out always seems to be so meek and polite. Even with Evan, my boyfriend for junior and most of senior year, I never quite managed to be that skating, twirling, leaping person I suspected I could be. But today, apparently, I can skate.

But it's a big ocean. It's an even bigger world. And maybe we've gotten as close as we're supposed to get.

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.