“I’ll keep looking- till that watery reflection of mine in your eye, rolls down as a tear. I’ll keep looking till we finally look away like our lives never met. Let’s cheat destiny as if we never knew each other. Let’s do this last thing together.”

“From midnight to 4: 00 AM is the loneliest time in the world. Because for those of us too sad to sleep, the only thing we have to look at is an empty bed, and the only thing we have to think of is every single person who didn’t want to fill it tonight.”

“I am not collarbones or drunken letters never sent. I am not the way I leave or left or didn’t know how to handle anything,at any time,and I am not your fault.”

“The worst part about a break up isn’t the loss of a relationship. It’s finding out that the person you once loved doesn’t exist anymore. You start mourning the death of somebody who is still alive. It’s painful and sobering. It’s knowing that the person you loved has vanished into thin air and all that’s left behind is their ghost”

“You were the hardest year of my life and I’ve never been so happy. What does that say about me?”

“I decided I would fill the emptiness in me with God and with paint.”

“There’s always that one guy who gets a hold on you. Not like your best friend’s brother who gets you in a headlock kind of hold. Or the little kid you’re babysitting who attaches himself to your leg kind of hold. I’m talking epic. Life changing. The “can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do your homework, can’t stop giggling, can’t remember anything but his smile” kind of hold. Like, Wesley and Buttercup proportions. Harry and Sally. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. The kind of hold in all your favorite ’80s songs, like the “Must Have Been Love”s, the “Take My Breath Away”s, the “Eternal Flame”s—the ones you sing into a hairbrush-microphone at the top of your lungs with your best friends on a Saturday night.”

“I delete the picture of him from my phone; I delete his number. I think that if I just delete him enough, it will be like none of it ever happened and my heart won’t hurt so badly”

“So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault.I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.”