Do you want to be with Dave for the rest of your life?” Then he rips off a piece of paper and picks up the smallest charcoal stick from my set. He writes something. He passes it over to me. It says: Time will tell. “And while you’re waiting,” he says, “don’t settle for anything less than what you really want.

The rain fluctuates between drizzle and torrential. It messes with your mind. It makes you think things will always be like this, never getting better, always letting you down right when you though the worst was over.

Maybe but... if being impulsive means ruining other people's lives, then maybe I should just stay the same.

Derek’s like, “So . . . what do you want to do first?” “I don’t know.” “Feel like ice cream?” “It’s, like, three degrees out.” “That’s why getting ice cream would be badass.

Things fall apart, even when you think they're stronger than anything you could ever imagine.

I have no interest in maintaining a relationship with someone who didn’t love me enough to stick around.

School would be way more tolerable if everyone wasn’t so afraid to be who they really are. And if everyone else would let them.