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.

We have to figure out how to let go, and forgive. This is our job.

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.

I couldn't help but wonder if that was what love was -- believing that someone was going to come through, in the end, and that it would still count

Sometimes you don't know it. What you have been waiting your whole life for. You don't know until it is happening.

There are words and there are feelings and somewhere between where the two meet is the truth

Josh had told me a long time ago that he had this theory that an entire relationship was based on what occurred over the course of the first five minutes you know each other. That everything that came after those first minutes was just details being filled in. Meaning: you already knew how deep the love was, how instinctually you felt about someone. What happened in their first five minutes? Time stopped.