How Can Someone Have The

Then I Think Of The Dark, And The Lights, And The Roaring, And Juliet, And Before I Can Think Of Anything Else, I Fight The Final Few Steps To The Door And Step Out Into The Cold, Where The Rain Is Still Coming Down Like Shards Of Moonlight, Or Like Steel.

That's The Thing About Best Friends. That's What They Do. They Keep You From Spinning Off The Edge.

This Is What I Want. This Is The Only Thing I've Ever Wanted. Everything Else—every Single Second Of Every Single Day That Has Come Before This Very Moment, This Kiss—has Meant Nothing.

I Think Of Grace And Feel A Sharp Pain In My Chest.

Grief Is Like Sinking, Like Being Buried.