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.

A real fighter never cries, never lets the weight of any blow bring him down. Except that final blow, the inevitable one, but even then they always go out like men.

Are you in love with me, Camryn Bennett?” … “Not yet,” I say with a smile in my voice, “but I’m getting there.

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.

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

Yesterday I thought about why I felt the need to get up at exactly the same time as the day before and do everything I did the day before. Why? What compels any of us to do the things we do when deep down a part of us just wants to break free from it all?

I say that I'm not into you like that, Camryn, because..," he pauses, searching my face, looking at my lips for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should kiss them again, "...because you're not the girl I could only sleep with once.