I'm not sure what it is that I want, but I feel it deep in the pit of my stomach. It's there sitting dormant. I'll know it when I see it.

Ultimately, it's my choice and only my choice.

You're like a philosopher with tattoos.

Well, everybody needs help feeling alive again every once in a while.” “No,” she says seriously, and my gaze falls back on hers, “I didn’t say again, Andrew; for making me feel alive for the first time.

It’s like, you know, it doesn’t matter what you do, even if you try to replicate an experience down to every last detail, it’ll never be the way it was when it happened naturally the first time.

I promise to love you forever in this life and wherever we go in the afterlife, because I know I can't go on in any life unless you're in it too.

Our story is over, yes, but our journey isn't, because we'll always live on the edge until the day we die.