Everyone isn’t logical. Everything doesn’t make sense in the end. Sometimes you have to forget about explanations or excuses and leave people and places behind, because otherwise they will drag you straight down.

His hands reached for me, gripping my hipbones and pulling me forward. he stared down at me, his voice low. "There are some things I will make time for, Jacqueline.

I used to think of two people in love like that. Like puzzle pieces, fitting together. But it's not like that at all. Love pulls a part of you out, and it pulls a part of him - like taffy, stretching but not separating. The tendrils of each one wrap around the other, until they meld together. One, but not quite. Separate, but not quite.

Growing up with my dad taught me to either lie like a pro or not bother.

I want to see your tattoos." "You do, huh?

And then she told me she didn’t want someone who needed her in order to be a better guy. She wanted someone who was better by himself, with or without her.

I’ve come to ask how you do it. How you feel what I know you’re feeling and then walk away like that.