I loved Ian in the now, the way he looked at me, how he made my stomach swim, how he held my hair when I was puking my guts up after eating a bad enchilada. That’s love.

And when someone grows up knowing so little of what real love feels like, whether from family, or friends, or the love of a companion, that person starts to believe that they weren’t meant to be loved, that good things will never happen to them. They start to believe that whenever something good does happen, it’s inevitable that something bad will come along to replace it.

I wonder if the ocean smells different on the other side of the world.

Maybe you should get rid of me,” I whisper onto his lips. “Never,” he says, kissing me once softly. “You’re mine for as long as you breathe.

Heart always wins out over the mind. The heart, although reckless and suicidal and a masochist all on its own, always gets its way.

Never thought I’d intentionally sleep on a bathromm floor next to a toilet while sober, but I meant it when I said I would sleep anywhere with her.

Just remember to always be yourself and don’t be afraid to speak your mind or to dream out loud