Extraordinary things are always hiding in places people never think to look.

Grief is a curious thing, when it happens unexpectedly. It is a Band-aid being ripped away, taking the top layer off a family. And the underbelly of a household is never pretty, ours no exception.

You build a wall to keep something unwanted out … or to hold something precious in.

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.

It is strange to think that we might have crossed paths, and still not have known what we were missing.

Houses are cellular walls; they keep our problems from bleeding into everyone else's.

Your hand fits mine like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle