She liked that word: we. It sounded warm and open, like a hug.

Love. I love you. I’ll always love you, my love. You are the love of my life.

....love and desire enjoy a symbiotic relationship, meaning that one cannot exist without the other. Desire is an enemy to contentment; desire is illness, a feverish brain. Who can be considered healthy who wants? The very word want suggests a lack, an impoverishment, and that is what desire is: an impoverishment of the brain, a flaw, a mistake.

Music, I think, he makes me feel like music

It's the way he says my name: like music.

I said, I prefer the ocean when it's gray. Or not really gray. A pale, in-between color. It reminds me of waiting for something good to happen.

The only thing worse than having no friends is being pitied for having no friends.