This was not a spurr-of-the-moment decision. Do not take me for granted... again.

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. If you could hear other people’s thoughts, you’d overhear things that are true as well as things that are completely random. And you wouldn’t know one from the other. It’d drive you insane. What’s true? What’s not? A million ideas, but what do they mean?

I’m sorry.” Once again, those were the words. And now, anytime someone says I’m sorry, I’m going to think of her.

But sometimes there’s nothing left to do but move on.

As a writer, my only responsibility is to tell a compelling story.

Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.

You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.