I thought Marcus was going to be in my life forever. Then I thought I was wrong. Now he’s back. But this time I know what’s certain: Marcus will be gone again, and back again and again and again because nothing is permanent. Especially people. Strangers become friends. Friends become lovers. Lovers become strangers. Strangers become friends once more, and over and over. Tomorrow, next week, fifty years from now, I know I’ll get another one-word postcard from Marcus, because this one doesn’t have a period signifying the end of the sentence. Or the end of anything at all.

I hate the very human inclination towards insensitivity

My thoughts create my world -Marcus Flutie

I wish our love was right now.

Then a lightning bolt shot straight through my skivvies. Sha-ZAM!

Faith is accepting what makes no sense, what we cannot prove, but know down deep in our souls is real.

Why do you even put up with me?' 'I'm not putting up with you,' he said, softly. 'I'm loving you.