Writing a book is hard. It turns out, writing a second book is twice as hard.
Nothing in my life is a coincidence.
There are no coincidences.
A kiss that was every bit as big and every bit as small as a kiss can be.
words same as always same as nothing when nothing is the same
My mom was there, in some form, in some sense, in some universe. My mom was still my mom, even if she only lived in books and door locks and the smell of fried tomatoes and old paper. She lived.