No one could tell you: you just had to go through it on your own. If you were lucky, you came out on the other side and understood. If you didn't, you kept getting thrust back, retracing those steps, until you finally got it right.

It's funny how someone's perception of you can be formed without you even knowing it.

I'd known enough people for every minute of the day, and yet still didn't have anyone as my two a.m.

As if he was beating me to the punch, his words living forever, while I was left speechless, no rebuttal, no words left to say.

When someone starts to change, and it’s obvious, it's sort of natural to wonder why. Right?

So what do you wear to dump somebody?" she asked me, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Black, for mourning? Or something cheerful and colorful, to distract them from their pain? Or maybe you wear some sort of camouflage, something that will help you disappear quickly in case they don't take it well.

I feel like Twitter was tailor-made for me, because I can do short spurts all day long. I loved my blog, but doing daily, then thrice weekly entries was really time consuming. 140 characters is perfect.