In books, you always know what's coming next. There are no surprises.

Memories aren't stored in the heart or the head or even the soul, if you ask me, but in the spaces between any given two people.

When it comes to memories, the good and the bad never balance.

Wheather it is conscious or not, you eventually make the decision to divide your life in half - before and after - with loss being that tight bubble in the middle. You can move around in spite of it; you can laugh and smile and carry on with your life, but all it takes is one slow range of motion, a doubling over, to be fully aware of the empty space at your center.

A duck walks into a bar and the bartender asks, what'll it be? The duck doesn't answer because it's a duck.

But there’s a part of me that wonders what it would be like to be the most important person to someone else, to always feel like you were missing a piece of yourself when he wasn’t near you.

Have a conversation with your family about your end-of-life wishes while you are healthy. No one wants to have that discussion... but if you do, you'll be giving your loved ones a tremendous gift, since they won't have to guess what your wishes would have been, and it takes the onus of responsibility off of them.