He felt homesick for places he had never been. He missed hearts he had never loved.

You are what you love, not who loves you.

She pulls me toward her, tells me, “You’re sweet, you know that?” I crack a smile. Life will not tear us apart this time. Our hearts will see to it.

The hardest thing about depression is that it is addictive. It begins to feel uncomfortable not to be depressed. You feel guilty for feeling happy.

We are dreamers. We worship love, we hope against hope and toss practicality out the window.

Let’s just make it through tonight, worry about the rest later.

First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.