What did it feel like, I wondered, to love someone that much? So much that you couldn't even control yourself when they came close, as if you might just break free of whatever was holding you and throw yourself at them with enough force to easily overwhelm you both.

Because anyone that can make you feel that bad about yourself is toxic.

With my mom, when someone was gone, they were gone. She didn't waste another minute thinking about them, and neither should you.

It was great. Freedom even the imagined kind always is.

She tried to be someone people liked. She tried to be someone people disliked. But all I became was someone who didn't succeed with anything I tried to be.

The fate of your heart is your choice and no one else gets a vote

That was the thing about being on the inside: the world was just going on, even when it seemed like time for you had stopped for good.