As I was walking up the stairs to dad's old room, and I was looking at the photographs, I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories. That someone actually took the photograph, and the people in the photograph had just eaten lunch or something.

But Mary Elizabeth felt different. She kept saying it was an "articulate" film. So "articulate." And I guess it was. The thing is, I didn't know what it said even if it said it very well.

I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with someone even if they could have. I need to know these people exist.

And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn't matter.

Patrick actually used to be popular before Sam bought him some good music.

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.

It's strange to describe reading a book as a really great experience, but that's kind of how it felt.