Soon I am seeing the blue-and-yellow flags that line the campus streets, and it makes me feel happy and sad at the same time to be back at La Salle--almost like looking at old pictures of people who have either died or with whom you have lost contact.

I am so happy. I am so impossibly happy.

I am trying to be kind instead of right.

What is reality if it isn't how we feel about things?

It hurts to look at the clouds, but it also helps, like most things that cause pain.

Tiffany and I are great friends, and I appreciate all that she is doing for me now. But she is not you. I still love you, Nikki. And you can’t control or alter true love.

You can lose yourself in repetition—quiet your thoughts; I learned the value of this at a very young age.