Why could we say more to each other when it counted less?

This wasn't because he liked me, I was sure. It had more to do with him banking on what we of wedding age had all become witnesses to-how during these wedding weekends, single women, feeling a little lonely, maybe, or just feeling a little too far from being the bride, found themselves loosening their own rules, opting to be more flexible, more quickly.

Why does it take fear to move you? Why does it take chaos to make us understand exactly what we need to do?

You can't finish the things you weren't supposed to start.

We loved each other in the same difficult, unusable way where you took turns doing it, instead of ever managing to do it at the same time.

People screw up, you know. You shouldn't hold it against them. You shouldn't expect everyone to know everything you're thinking about or not getting from them. It doesn't mean they don't love you. They just screwed up.

These things...they are who you are. They brought you here. To this day. You didn't give me a chance to understand that ever the unattractive parts of you, the messy parts, were something I could accept.