There are certain people who come into your life, and leave a mark. Their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business. Just hearing their name pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless.
There’s nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else.
Being happy is a very personal thing—and it really has nothing to do with anyone else .
Every word has consequences. Every silence, too.