. . . Endlessness is a really strange idea in a universe that is defined by its endings.

"Nothing," I said. "I’m just…" I couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t know how to. "I’m just very, very fond of you."

I'm sorry. I know you loved her. It was hard not to.

I'm not asexual. I'm arelationshipal.

Headline?" he asked. "'Swing Set Needs Home,'" I said. "'Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home,'" he said. "'Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Swing Set Seeks the Butts of Children,'" I said.

I wanted to, you know, get my story out in the world, which, it turns out, is a very misguided notion.

People are supposed to care. It's good that people mean something to you, that you miss people when they're gone.