That's when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say it to somebody, show them you cared. And he just didn't. Not enough.

You never know the last time you’ll see a place. A person.

Here's something else, something important: Love is not transactional. It is not a bank account, you don't always get what you put in. Sometimes you put in so much and get very little return on your investment, at least that you can see right away.

Firsts are best because they are beginnings

We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything.

Happiness is a Slurpee and a hot pink straw.

Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always.