It's never long distance between friends.

She knew I could tell with one glance, one look, one simple instant. It was her eyes. Despite the thick makeup, they were still dark-rimmed., haunted, and sad. Most of all though, they were familiar. The fact that we were in front of hundreds of strangers changed nothing at all. I'd spent a summer with those same eyes-scared, lost, confused-staring back at me. I would have known them anywhere.

It wasn’t so much that I was positive. I just wasn’t fully subscribing to such a negative way of thinking anymore.

Some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic.

Here was a boy who liked flaws, who saw them not as failings but as strengths. Who knew such a person could exist, or what would have happened if we'd found each other under different circumstances? Maybe in a perfect world. But not in this one.

Sometimes love can be an ugly thing.

I mean, it's not surprising, really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's, like, part of you for good.