Maybe the reason I've never died in this story is that I've never had something worth dying for before.

But I didn't frame it; I put into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days I start to lose her. There might be a morning when I wake up and her face isn't the first thing I see. Or a lazy August afternoon when I can't quite recall anymore where the freckles were on her right shoulders. Maybe one of these days, I will not be able to listen to the sound of snow falling and hear her footsteps.

Traveling is all very well and good as long as you knew there is a place or person you can call home

Life could take on any number of shapes while you were busy fighting your own demons. But if you were changing at the same rate as the person beside you, nothing else really mattered. You became each other's constant.

She understood what it was like to stand right in front of people you loved, even though they could not see you.

words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder.

true love is felonious… You take someone’s breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.