Having a holiday weekend without a family member felt like putting on a sweater that had an extra arm.

There is something fascinatingly awkward about an author photo. I'm drawn to those glossy shots in the back of books, mostly because the subjects never look happy to be there.

It's sad when our daddies die. Makes us one less person inside.

When something that honest is said it usually needs a few minutes of silence to dissipate.

I've never subscribed to that 'Love means never having to say you're sorry' bullshit. In fact, love means you always get the chance to say you're sorry. When we love someone, we always want to forgive them.

We will do anything to get away from our own pain. We will change our lives, rip people out, swallow a bottle of life-ending pills. When we hurt more than we can bear, when our lives get that dark, it's shocking what we will do to protect ourselves.

Having a holiday weekend without a family member felt like putting on a sweater that had an extra arm.