I forced myself to picture the last moments. The penultimate breath. A final sigh. And yet. It was always followed by another.

Perhaps that is what it means to be a father - to teach your child to live without you.

Then he almost but didn't say the two sentence he'd been meaning to say for years: part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you

In one's youth, one has tremendous access to one's feelings. And as one gets older, some of those feelings kind of drift away. But so much more happens to you. There's more at stake in life.

The truth is the thing I invented so I could live.

lonely people are always up in the middle of the night.

...after all, who isn't a survivor from the wreck of childhood?