It’s much easier not to know things sometimes. And to have french fries with your mom be enough.

When I was driving home, I just thought about the word 'special'. And I thought the last person who said that about me was my Aunt Helen. I was very grateful to have heard it again. Because I guess we all forget sometimes. And I think everyone is special in their own way. I really do.

So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

I love my mom. And this time, I told her I loved her. And she told me she loved me, too. And things were okay for a little while.

and for the first time in my life I understand the end of that poem. And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.

Craig said the problem with things is that everyone is always comparing everyone with everyone

Sam dropped me off. When she was too far away to see me, I started to cry again. Because she was my friend again. And that was enough for me.