I remembered this one time that I never told anybody about. The time we were walking. Just the three of us. I was in the middle. I don't remember where we were walking to or where we were walking from. I just remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere

And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms.

Except that my father got a raise, and my mother didn't because she doesn't get paid for housework, and my sister stopped reading those self-esteem books because she met a new boy

Enjoy it. Because it's happening.

And even if she says no, and really means yes, then quite frankly she's playing games and isn't worth the price of dinner.

I just listened to the music, and breathed in the day, and remembered things. Things like walking around the neighborhood and looking at the houses and the lawns and the colorful trees and having that be enough.

Movies, by nature, are not subjective, they're objective.