I didn't humiliate him by pointing it out because that's not how you treat friends. You don't judge them. You don't humiliate them. I bet he's been judging me all along.

How can you call it love when it hurt you so badly?" "It was love because it was worth it.

He looks out into the empty street, allowing me to sit in his car and just miss her. To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.

When the right moment appears, the key is to not let it pass.

I'm listening to someone give up. Someone I knew—someone I liked. I'm listening... but still, I'm too late.

Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.

It was love because it was worth it.