I'm sorry." "Be sorry you lied," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.

Life and death were so unpredictable. So close to each other. We existed moment to moment, never knowing who would be the next to leave this world.

I'll see you later Roza." "At our next practice?" I asked. "We are starting those up again, right? I mean you still have things to teach me." Standing in the doorway, he looked over at me and smiled. "Yes. Lots of things.

Rose once told me about this poem she’d read. There was this line, ‘If your eyes weren’t open, you wouldn’t know the difference between dreaming and waking.’ You know what I’m afraid of? That someday, even with my eyes open, I still won’t know.

You can live a lifetime in two years.

His eyes, I’d long since discovered, could be as eloquent and expressive as his pen. The messages they sent me now hardly seemed decent for a public setting.

However, he also trusted me to make my own decisions. Contradicting me or telling me what to do wasn't in his nature - even though he secretly may have wanted to.