The consequences of being un-cool feel so big that a lot of times you end of not finding ways to have open and honest conversations.

It was an indulgence, learning last words. Other people had chocolate; I had dying declarations.

How can you seperate those things though? The people are the place is the people.

That was part of her, and you used to know it. It's like now you only care about the Alaska you made up.

But I could always tell in her eyes if she got really pissed at me, and her eyes were still pretty smiley

my lungs sucked at being lungs.

I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. Do you know what I mean? There is so much to lose.