Committing suicide so as not to be murdered is the worst reason I've ever heard of to die.

And no matter what anybody says about grief and about time healing all wounds, the truth is, there are certain sorrows that never fade away until the heart stops beating and the last breath is taken.

He was waiting for something from me. Acknowledgement. Validation. Commiseration, perhaps. I couldn’t even look at him because I was afraid of feeling any more than I already did.

I didn’t write that song to try and win you over, or to steal you away from him. I wrote it because I knew I never could.

If you want me you're going to have to come and get me.

Just knowing you exist changed the world for me.

In his eyes I saw all the other possibilities. The dream-world possibilities. The fairytale possibilities. The seemingly impossible possibilities.