Promise me that if I ever get Alzheimer’s or dementia, and I don’t remember anyone that you’ll visit me every day and read to me like Noah read to Allie.

His face spreads into a warm smile. “As a matter of fact, no, I have never slept under the stars – are you gettin’ all romantic on me, Camryn Bennett?” He looks at me with a playful sideward stare.

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

Things always change when someone you love dies. You just can't prepare youself for those changes no matter what you do in advance. The only thing that's a certainty in always wondering who's going to be next.

Why does everybody have to be with somebody? It’s a stupid delusion and a really pathetic way of thinking.

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

The moment you tell someone else is the moment you become a whiner and the world’s smallest violin starts to play. The truth is, we all have problems; we all go through hardships and pain, and my pain is paradise compared to a lot of people’s and I really have no right to whine at all.