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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

That's the brutality of a breakup, isn't it? The people leaving think they did everything possible, the people left behind think what is possible hasn't even been tested yet.