I was actually kind of a hot mess in high school. I did a lot of things in high school I'm not proud of. I wasn't a good student and I wasn't particularly a good daughter. I wasn't very engaged.

But the original was there as well—more jaded and rudimentary, functional rather than romantic. It fit not just the yellow house but another door, deep within my own heart. One that had been locked so tight for so long that I was afraid to even try it for fear of what might be on the other side

Oh darling, don't be bitter. It's the first instinct of the weak.

We laughed ourselves silly, taking back our shared past, gently, piece by piece.

I'm starting to think, though, that some things never get that. The replay, and all. So at some point you have to make peace with it as it is, not keep waiting for a chance to change it

Silence is so freaking loud

There were so many levels to the unknown, from safe to dangerous to outright nebulous, scariest of all.