Maybe there was no one way to define it. Maybe there were as many shades of love as the blues of the sky.

Maybe staying on the surface keeps her from returning to a place where she can't breathe.

...and time becomes a forgotten detail.

Father says it will come in time. “Time heals,” he says. I don’t tell him that I don’t know what time is.

Maybe there was no one way to define it. Maybe there were as many shades of love as the blues of the sky.

There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you.

There are a lot of memories we imagine. We play them over and over in our minds, trying to orchestrate our movements and words to perfection. Or maybe it's just that I've lived inside of my head more than any other person in the history of the world. Maybe none of us can really predict how we will act at any give moment. Maybe we're all at the mercy of circumstance in spite of our well-laid plans.