Things break all the time. Day breaks, waves break, voices break. Promises break. Hearts break.
I told myself that if I didn't care, this wouldn't have hurt so much - surely that proved I was alive and human and all those touchy-feely things, for once and for all. But that wasn't a relief, not when I felt like a skyscraper with dynamite on every floor.
Close a door, and you'd still feel a breeze through the window.
Things had a way of working out for the best when you let them run their course.
Dylan Jerome," the lawyer admits, "wanted to sue God for not caring enough about him.
Betrayal was a stone beneath a mattress of thr bed you shared, something you felt digging into you no matter how you shifted position. What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?