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.

Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It's crazy!

Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how we feel—but they're running through our heads anyway because they're interesting to think about.

All you really have... is now.

How many times had I let myself connect with someone only to have it thrown back in my face?

And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.

Do you remember the last thing you said to me? The last thing you did to me? And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me when I said it I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.