The urge to jump into his arms and feel the warmth of them surrounding me is so powerful, I wonder if it's medically possible to be addicted to another human being.

I want to try making things right because picking up the pieces is way better than leaving them the way they are.

Is anyone human actually normal? I'm beginning to think being normal is actually abnormal.

Love is honesty. Love is a mutual respect for one another.

Paco Fuentes, " Mrs. Peterson says, pointing to the table behind Mary. The handsome young man with pale blue eyes like his mother's and smoky black hair like his father's takes his assigned seat.

Unfortunately, there are no guarentees in life.

I hate games I can't win.