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.

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

We only really remember things for five years. After that, what we remember, what's actually etched in our brain is our memory of the thing, not the thing itself. And five years after that, what's left is our memory of the memory.

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

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

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.