Renee Carlino Quotes

Look at you; you're like a salty sea captain, with your dog and shit.

It's okay to be lonely sometimes

His smile was a pitying, sad kind of smile, reserved only for when a person knows there's nothing that can be said to make things right.

Having a bunch of shitty adults constantly letting you down really kills a kid's view of the world.

Wilbur, I want to have like a million of your babies."
He looked happier than I had ever seen him.
"Really? Should we start now?"
"Definitely.

To exist in each other's souls so strongly that you are bound without a physical tie is the greatest mark of love ...

Just being your friend is going to be hard, but I'll try. It's just that . . . I like you. You're witty and sweet, and you happen to be the most infinitely beautiful woman I've ever met.

She cupped my face. "Wilbur, you are so sexy when you're not pretending to be an eighties butt-rocker."

"You know what's not sexy?"

"What?" she said on a breath between laying kisses on my cheek.

"June pooping on the floor."

Mia jumped off my lap and darted over to the kitchen, screeching in her highest voice. "No, no, no, Juney." She caught our little puppy mid-poop and picked her up, held her arms out and screamed, "What do I do?"

There was no way Mia would be able to get June outside without leaving a trail of poop in her wake. "Put her over the toilet!"

I followed her as she ran down the hallway and into our tiny bathroom at the end. She held the squirming puppy over the toilet until the doggie business was complete.

Setting June on the ground, she glanced up at me, frowned, and then mumbled, "I'm gonna be a terrible mother."

I helped her up and then stood behind her at the sink as she washed her hands. "No, you're going to be perfect." I smirked when she looked at me in the mirror. "You did exactly the right thing. First you screamed and charged at her with your arms flailing around, and then you basically held her by the neck while you ran around in a circle yelling. That is exactly what you will probably do if the same situation happens to play out with one of our babies."

"Thanks a lot.

It's like reading a good book. The kind where you don't want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

I learned that you can't predict your future, there's no crystal ball or formula for happiness. You can't control the weather just like you can't control the way others behave, but what you can control is how much love you give. Surrendering to this crazy thing called life is hard, but we don't have to be the soulless sheets of paper tarrying along in the wind. We can find our people, love, respect them, and then hang on for dear life because it's not where you go on this journey but who you're with that matters the most.

Pinot, the most romantic of wines, with so voluptuous a perfume, so sweet an edge, and so powerful a punch that, like falling in love, they make the blood run hot and the soul wax embarrassingly poetic.

He jolted upright and grabbed my foot. "How are you doing that?" He inspected my feet. "Oh my god!" Holding my foot up, he said, "How are you doing that with these sausage toes?"

"Hey! I like my toes."

"They're adorable, but they look like they belong on a fat toddler."

We were both laughing, but I felt vulnerable, so I sat up. "Let me see your feet."

"I have beautiful feet," he said and it was true. The bastard could have been a foot model.

"Damn you."

"Come here, let me see those little Jimmy Deans."

"Leave my toes alone!

We greeted the guests and mingled with everyone until dinner was served. Mia stood up and addressed the crowd, something extremely out of character for her. I thought for sure she expected me to make the announcement. She took my hand in hers before she started her speech.

"Thank you, everyone, for being here. Will and I feel extremely grateful for having family and friends to share this day with." She picked up her glass, raised it, and very quickly said, "I'm drinking apple cider because I'm pregnant! So cheers to family and making it bigger!"

"Cheers!" I said with the crowd and clanked my glass with Mia's.

"How was that?" she said.

"Great, honey." It may very well have been the worst wedding speech ever.

Two people immediately rushed our table - Mia's mom and Tyler. Tyler arrived first, but Liz, who only came up to Tyler's waist, stomped on his foot and then cut in front of him. She glared at us from the other side of the table.

"Mom, I was going to tell you.

True love is the ironically selfless need to know that your person will be okay without you.

I loved you, I love you now, but I'll be able to go on. I know that I can. You taught me that. Not being with you is far from my dream, but like our hearts, dreams can be broken and repaired again. It's hard for me not to wonder if I scared you away with all these letters. I hope not. I hope it just made you see how beautiful and amazing you are. I guess I'm realizing now that I just want you to be happy and safe. That's the most I can hope for now. I brought some of your boxes here but I didn't open

He held me for a long time. When he started to release me, I said, "It's not enough."
He picked me up again and squeezed me harder. Tucking his face into my neck, he said, "It'll never be enough.

I realized a long time ago that if you keep all that stuff inside, the stuff that makes you most uniquely you, then you will never find your person. You'll just wither from within and forget who you are, and if you can't see you, then he can't see you. Don't be scared. I've seen you, Kate, who you really are, and you're worth it. You're worth all of it.

I wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and put him in my pocket for safekeeping.

Bald is sexy, right?" he said. I laughed to myself quietly as I waited for the nurse to open the curtain.

"Yes, Adam, bald is sexy," she said, sounding amused.

"I mean, think about it. Bruce Willis, Vin Diesel . . . Natalie Portman . . . Adam Bramwell.

You're all I have left. You're holding my whole world together, Em.

that I had to know you, that I needed you in my life. I've never felt that way about anyone, ever. Whatever happens will be up to you, but I'll be a different man if I can't have you. I will never breathe as deeply as I did when I was with you. I'll never see the range of color on a perfectly cloudless sky. I will never smell anything as sweet as you or hear a voice that fills my heart up as much as yours does. That night in my truck, when I had the low, I knew without a doubt, even though I had never been in love before . . . I knew that I was in love with you.

It was about you... what I wrote. It was all about you." His bottom lip began to quiver.
"I know," I said, my voice shaky. I started to cry then. There was no holding back. "I loved it, every word. It was so beautiful.

You are your experiences and your fears and the love you let yourself feel. You are your degree and your talent and your passion. You are your pain, your joy, and your fantasies.

It's often mistaken for good advice, but wisdom cannot be imparted to someone. Wisdom can only be earned; it's a by-product of experience, not necessarily knowledge, otherwise I would be stalking Oprah right now, begging for a transfusion.

Gravity has got the best of me.

She takes a hold,

won't let me go.

She rips me into pieces.

Coming home,

I'm left alone with nothing but a box

of mismatched socks

and missing puzzle pieces.

I'm lost but never found.

I'm riding the wind

and coming down

until I'm swept away again.

You've said cut ties.

You've said count lies.

Break your best intentions and leave no trace.

All the hurt can be erased if you stay with me on the surface.

I'm lost but never found.

I'm riding the wind

and coming down

until I'm swept away again.

We were victims of bad timing. But here we are again.

If the ocean were music, sailboats would be the ballerinas.

Once my grandmother told me I needed to find God and I said, "Why don't you just tell me where to look and save me the trouble?" I was dead serious. Faith, destiny, all the shit you can't see, but yet people are so willing to take the leap. Not me.

Sometimes we're just along for the ride. We can't control everything; we can only do our best to control our reactions when life doesn't go our way.

As long as there is love in this world, we will be a part of it.

sometimes we figure things out, and then life changes and we have to figure it all out again.

Jason Dean Colbertson, how'd you get so great?" There was silence. He kept his eyes closed and said, "You made me this way, Em.

There will always be something a little off, but like a three-legged dog, you'll learn to walk again.

I love you, Emiline. I loved you before I even knew what it meant."
"I love you too, Jase…I'll love you forever."
"Swear to me."
"I swear I want this."
He was staring right into my eyes. "Swear that you love me and trust me," he said.
I knew the feeling like my own name. "Jase…" I swallowed and then tears filled my eyes. "I swear to god on your life and my own that I love you and trust you."
And that I'll love you forever.

Martha would come over every week and check on Mia and work with her on relaxation and breathing exercises to prepare for the natural labor. Jenny was on board with the natural thing too, so of course she and Mia dragged Tyler and me to the Bradley Birthing Method classes.

It was hysterical; we had to get in all kinds of weird poses with the girls while they mimicked being in labor. We would massage their backs while they were perched on all fours, moaning. One of the hardest things I've ever done is contain my laughter during those classes. Mia was the freakin' teacher's pet because she was taking it so seriously.

Right around the third class, they showed us a video of a live birth. I had nightmares for a week after that. Tyler and I agreed that we had to find a way to get out of going to the classes.

We hadn't mutually agreed on a plan, so during the fifth class, Tyler took it upon himself and used his own bodily gifts to get us into a heap of trouble. Tyler is lactose intolerant, and he has to take these little white tablets every time he eats cheese. The morning of the class, he stopped by the studio with a half-eaten pizza. I didn't even think twice about it until that night in class during our visualization exercises when this god-awful, horrendous odor overtook our senses.

At first everyone kept quiet and just looked around for the source. There wasn't a sound to accompany the lethal attack, so everyone went into investigatio

I just realized I know nothing about you. Do you have a family? Where are you from?" The idea that I just invited a relative stranger, who owns nothing, to live in my apartment gave me a stomachache, but the weird thing was that I felt like I had known him forever.

"I'm from Detroit; my entire family still lives there. My mom works in a bakery at a grocery store and my dad is a retired electrician. I have twelve brothers and sisters."

"Really? I'm an only child. I can't imagine having a huge family like that - it must have been awesome!"

Relaxing his stance, he leaned his tattooed forearm onto the dresser and crossed his feet. Jackson came over and sat next to him. Will unconsciously began petting Jackson's head. It made my heart warm. "Actually, I don't have twelve brothers and sisters. I have one brother and eleven sisters." He paused. "I'm dead serious. My brother Ray is the oldest and I'm the youngest with eleven girls in between. I swear my parents just wanted to give Ray a brother, so they kept having more babies. By the time I was born, Ray was sixteen and didn't give a shit. On top of it, they all have R names except me. It's a f**king joke."

"You're kidding? Name 'em," I demanded.

In a super-fast voice Will recited, "Raymond, Reina, Rachelle, Rae, Riley, Rianna, Reese, Regan, Remy, Regina, Ranielle, Rebecca, and then me, Will."

"Surely they could have figured out another R name?"

"Well my br

I swear on your life,

I played a few rough versions of songs while Chad sat by, looking lost. Mia came in wearing black leather pants and a tight sweater. As I strummed the Gibson, she made her way over to the piano. She smiled and threw her hand up, waving to Chad. He smiled back and then I watched him study her as she passed. Then his dipshit, googly eyes dropped to her ass while she moved the piano bench out.

When he looked back at me, I glared at him and began strumming a dreary and much louder tune. His body sank into his chair and he dropped his head down to stare at his fidgeting hands. Mia began playing a sullen little melody in an attempt to accompany the monotonous song I was forming, and then she stopped abruptly and turned toward me.

I continued playing.

"Is this going to be a ballad?" she asked.

Without taking my eyes off of dipshit, I said, "No, baby, this is what's called a funeral march."

Chad threw his arms up and said, "I get it. I get it. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Mia asked.

"Nothing!" Chad and I both shouted.

"Let's move on," I said, arching one eyebrow at him.

Chad kept his eyes trained on either the ground or me through the rest of the session

I was static, standing on the platform, watching train after train go by, wishing I knew which one to be on.

I turned toward her with red, puffy eyes. Her own eyes widened with concern, and she froze as she watched me walk into the kitchen, like she was waiting for me to crumple onto the floor and shatter into pieces.

"I'm fine," I said. "It's an emotional book. I'm just getting a glass of water." I reached for the tequila.

She got up and followed me into the kitchen. "That's not water."

"And?"

"It's ten a.m."

"And?"

"You look like you've been crying for an hour straight . . . and you're hitting the hard stuff at - and I repeat - ten a.m."

"Cara, you have the most amazing powers of perception." I looked at the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, shrugged, set the glass down, and headed back to my room with the bottle only.

"I'm worried about you," Cara called out as I walked away.

"I'm fine. Just gonna sit in here, read, and have myself a little mental health day." I turned and smiled and then locked myself in my room.

"Mental health days don't usually involve tequila at ten a.m.!" she yelled through the door.

"I'm fine!

Well, Mia, the guy told you he wanted you to be his wife and the mother of his children and you basically said he was a loser. I believe his exact words were She ripped my soul out, poured gasoline on it, and watched it burn.

I believe you have to protect your relationship with God more than any other, Charlotte. Whether you believe in God or not, whether you think God is terrible, truly divine, or absolutely nonexistent, it is the most sacred and intimate relationship we have in our lives.

People shouldn't lie to each other to begin with. People shouldn't have to fear hell in order to tell the truth. They should fear that their lies will ruin relationships or get them in trouble, here now, on Earth, with the people they love.

The pain of losing someone is always worse when you know you could have prevented it.

I cried because I knew that if I gave myself to Will, I would be left in pieces ... left behind. The only way I could hang on was to be his friend, even though every part of me wanted more.

Maybe you can escape your own slightly flawed love story for a bit and get lost in something more satisfying - even if it is fiction." I

I hadn't slept with anyone in two years. Frankly, it was unnatural. The way I reacted to Will made me think that I really needed to give up the saint act,

I put on the most serious face I could muster. "We're about to embark on a journey." I used the Twilight Zone voice. "Full of involuntary sleepless nights, throw-up, and out-of-control behavior. Our freedom will no longer exist; our identities will vanish before our very eyes. We. Will. Be. PARENTS!" I mimicked loud, thundering music.

"Glad you're excited," Mia said.

I don't know much about fate, but I know something brought me back there. Maybe I fought that force for too long, or maybe everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to. The

There's a pizza place I want you to try, Ciccio's. You heard of it?"

"We can get good pizza on Fifth."

"No, you have to try this place, Matt. It's phenomenal."

"What's phenomenal, the pizza or the staff?" Since my divorce a few years ago, Scott - boss, friend, and eternal bachelor - had high hopes that I'd become his permanent wingman. It was impossible to talk him out of anything, especially when it involved women and food.

"You got me. You have to see this girl. We'll call it a work meeting. I'll put it on the company card." Scott was the type who talked about women a lot and about porn even more. He was severely out of touch with reality.

"I'm sure this qualifies as sexual harassment somewhere.

If it's a girl, I want to name her Grace."

"Okay, if it's a boy, I think we should name him Hamsel," I said, straight-faced.

"What?" Her tone was not nice.

"Yeah, I've always loved the name Hamsel, or we can name him Wilbur Jr. and just call him Junior for short." I finally had mercy when Mia's eyes were open as wide as they would go. "I'm kidding. What names do you like?"

"For a boy, hmm. I don't know; we'll have to think on it. I really like Birch or Branch, you know something earthy…maybe Webb." I laughed but she deadpanned, "What? I mean if you don't like those, I also really like Stream or Haze."

Oh my God, she's serious.

She tilted her head to the side, smiled, and cackled like a witch. "Ha, ha, Will. Two can play this game."

"Thank God, I thought you were serious. Shit."

She socked me in the chest

I believe his exact words were cosmic, soul-shattering, air in your lungs kind of love.

It's a love story, so one might consider it science fiction.

Love equals a morbid and relentless fear of losing the other person. It's a freak-accident fear, a piece of space junk falling from the sky and obliterating him, leaving nothing but his smoking boots. It's the unfortunate-organ-defect fear - suddenly, on his thirtieth birthday, the little crack in his heart that's been there since birth will rear its ugly head and take him in his sleep while he's spooning you. It's the only way to know you're really in love, when you ask the question would it be harder to watch him die, or to know he'll watch me die? Is there more mercy in being the one who does the watching or in being the one who does the dying? It's when you realize what mercy-killing actually means, it's when you actually care to the point of tormenting worry. It's not roses and white horses, it's fucking brutal and it can send a person running for the hills. To love is brave and Will was the bravest person I knew.

What did you get her for the wedding gift?"

"Dude, I bought her a fucking Steinway."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I had to. She saw it in a store and played it in the showroom. The entire staff gathered around to watch her. She kept her eyes closed and wept while she played "Isolde's Love Death" from Tristan and Isolde. She played the whole fucking thing without any sheet music. The crowd clapped and whistled. I offered to buy it on the spot; I said we could write it off, but she said absolutely not. She wouldn't let me."

"How much was it?"

"A lot."

"Dude, tell me, how much?"

"A hundred."

"A hundred what?" Tyler said in disbelief.

"A hundred fucking shillings. A hundred thousand dollars, you moron."

"You bought her a hundred-thousand-dollar piano?"

"Well, technically, Alchemy Sound Studios bought it for her, but yeah

My sister-in-law could win an award for figurative ball size.

Friends forever might have been a tired expression, but when he asked, it was like music or poetry. I knew it meant something. I knew it meant I need you in my life

Why we acknowledge birthdays after death makes no sense, but I guess it's a way to stay committed to remembering somebody. Maybe it's because, after we die, we are so easily forgotten. I wondered who would remember me.

I don't know what I'll do if I fall in love with him."
"If you fall, let him catch you.

I lay down beside him and stared directly into the sun. He turned on his side and propped his head on his elbow.

"You'll go blind doing that," he said in a low voice.

"Leave me alone."

"Why are you in such a bad mood? You PMSing?"

"What do you know about it?"

"A lot."

"I doubt that, and even if I were, it's beyond rude to talk to me about it." I hadn't started my period yet, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

Weren't we though? Timeless? Nothing could change what we'd had all those years before, even if the idea of what might've been lingered between us.

Once there was you and me
We were lovers
We were friends
Before life changed
Before we were strangers
Do you still think of me?

He reached his thumb out and wiped tears from my cheek. "Em, can we please go back to the way things were?"

"Yes . . . definitely."

He pulled me into his chest. "I mean, Hunter Stevens? Really? That guy's such a slimeball."

I wiped my tears and laughed into his shirt. "Come on, Desiree Banks? She's a slut and everyone knows it . . . and those boobs, my god."

"For the record, I'm not really a boob guy. Well, I mean . . ."

"I get it, dork! I can't believe she was your first kiss."

He pushed my shoulders back to look at me. "Desiree wasn't my first kiss."

"She wasn't?"

"No. I kissed Katy Brown in the seventh grade. We made out in the reading room in the back of the library." He scratched his chin. "And then there was Chastity Williams, and then Lizzy Peters, and . . ."

"Okay, okay, geez, I guess Desiree's not the slut here.

For Jackson: The best damn dog in the world. RIP, Buddy.

They projected an illusion of warmth with their home-cooking and hand-stitched quilts, yet underneath the facade was an institutional rigidity, as if they were running an orphanage where children would be fed and cared for but never loved. Love was such a key ingredient in molding humans, yet it was inaccessible to kids inside of the system.

Do you believe people are made for each other, like there's a force we can't see that brings us to the person we're meant for?

the past would only fester and eat away at us if we tried to hold on to it too tightly.

I love this song, can you turn it up?"

I reached and turned the dial up on the Vance Joy song "Red Eye." Adam bobbed his head to the music. At the stoplight I looked over at him. He was wearing the black beanie my brother had given him, his black Wayfarers, and the hospital gown.

I laughed.

He turned to me and smiled. "What?" he said.

"You're cute."

"Oh yeah? Wanna fool around?" He grinned.

I was glad that Adam couldn't see my eyes welling up behind my sunglasses.

The car behind us honked. I hit the gas and my car lurched forward from the intersection. "How much time do we have?" I asked.

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Adam, I am serious." He was having a good day.

He reached for my phone. "We have like an hour and a half before Leah freaks out."

I knew I was taking a big chance, but how could I say no to him? There was so much joy in him that day just because he got to go to the drive-thru at In-N-Out.

"Okay." I glanced over at him and flattened my lips. "You better not have a seizure on me."

"I can't think of a better place to have a seizure. Although I can see how that wouldn't be much fun for you."

I laughed hysterically. "Oh man, I didn't mean literally on me; I meant on my watch."

"Well, Charlotte, I don't have much control over that, but I'll try. You know what helps?"

"What?"

"Alcohol

The present is our own. The right-this-second, the here-and-now, this moment before the next, is ours for the taking. It's the only free gift the universe has to offer. The past doesn't belong to us anymore, and the future is just a fantasy, never guaranteed. But the present is ours to own. The only way we can realize that fantasy is if we embrace the now.

I can still smell you on my pillow. I can still see you standing in my room, the light caressing your smooth legs, your dark hair cascading over your shoulders, and your gorgeous mouth smiling so effortlessly. I miss you. I ache for you, and I'm bordering on crazy without you. Come back to me.

Our story is great. Maybe not all the other shit, but the story of us is perfect, Em.

Apparently while Tyler and I sat unaware, arguing over where to get the best pizza, Kyle and Josh were having a heart-to-heart. It started when Josh apologized for the scene earlier with Tinker Bell. The conversation went on and on, both of them professing their drunken love for each other while Tyler and I continued an old argument about the difference between yams and sweet potatoes - that's the kind of profound shit Tyler and I talked about.

Maybe after I was gone, she would remember me and be tormented. Or maybe I'd have to watch her die, and I'd be tormented. And then I realized, that is love. That is life. Brutal and beautiful all in the same..

He was good-looking in a clean way, but he was fat. He looked like he'd eaten Ryan Seacrest for breakfast.

Three seconds doesn't seem like a long time, but when you're gazing into someone's eyes, it's long enough to make a silent promise.

There was nothing we could do; we were just a couple of powerless, poor kids, so desperate to find a way to be together.

There have been no women before you and there will be no women after you,

It's the only way to know you're really in love, when you ask the question would it be harder to watch him die, or to know he'll watch me die? Is there more mercy in being the one who does the watching or in being the one who does the dying? It's when you realize what mercy-killing actually means, it's when you actually care to the point of tormenting worry. It's not roses and white horses, it's fucking brutal and it can send a person running for the hills. To love is brave.

Me: Staying here tonight.

Helen: You okay? Code word?

Helen and I had code words for everything. It was usually an old pet's name or a line from one of our favorite movies. Growing up, Helen's family had Maltipoos. It's a mix between a Maltese and miniature poodle . . . damned dog people and their overbreeding. Anyway, they had a little black Maltipoo named Major. He would have been adorable if he weren't an incessant humper. It was just vile; truly, the dog was persistent and fanatical about humping. Witnessing Major molest everything in his path was traumatizing. He was constantly in motion, his little butt pumping in and out. There was clearly something wrong with him. He humped everything from stuffed animals to vacuum cleaners to any leg he came in contact with. Helen and I hated that dog. We called him Major Humperdinck. After high school it became our code for I totally want this guy to hump me. I know, we were disgusting girls.

Me: Major.

Helen: Major What?

Me: Don't . . .

Helen: I'm calling the police.

Me: Major Humperdinck

Helen: I knew it. Well, have fun . . . slut.

I wondered why, in all of the time that Jax and I had spent together, he hadn't tried to kiss me. He never even brought it up. I wasn't the prettiest girl in school - no butt, no boobs, just a beanpole with a mop of dark hair - but I had nice skin and he'd told me once that I had pretty eyes. Actually, he'd said they were weird and so big, he felt like he could dive in and swim around in them. So maybe "pretty" wasn't the right word . . .

What are you doin', man?" Scott's voice came from the doorway.

I turned and smiled. "Just thinking."

"You seem a little brighter."

"Actually, I was thinking about how I ended up thirty-six, divorced, and trapped in cubicle hell."

He walked to the coffeepot and poured a mug full then leaned against the counter. "You were a workaholic?" he offered.

"That's not why Elizabeth was unfaithful. She fell right into Brad's skinny arms, and he works more than I do. Hell, Elizabeth works more than I do."

"Why are you dwelling on the past? Look at you. You're tall. You have hair. And it looks like" - he waved his hand around at my stomach - "you might have abs?"

"You checking me out?"

"I'd kill for a head of hair like that."

Scott was the kind of guy who was bald by twenty-two. He's been shaving it Mr. Clean–style since then.

"What do women call that thing?" He pointed to the back of my head.

"A bun?"

"No, there's, like, a sexier name for it. The ladies love that shit."

"They call it a man-bun.

In all my years, I've learned that life delivers many storms for us to weather. Some will be slow, brooding, quiet beasts, and others will be loud, thunderous, and frightening. But if you're willing to look close enough, no matter how devastating the storm may be, after the rain you'll always find new life sprouting in the aftermath.

I'm sorry for what I said." He swallowed. "On Christmas Eve."

"Water under your bridge."

"I believe the correct saying is 'water under the bridge.'?"

"I was just making a statement on how you're clearly over it, so you can consider it water under your bridge. As far as I'm concerned, my valley's still flooded.

You know how they say behind every great man there's a great woman? My mother would say, No, the woman is three steps ahead.

Share your special soul with me
And I promise to
Give you all of mine

Fifteen years is too long to be holding on to a few heart-pounding moments from college.

And in that moment, you realize how little control you have over your own destiny. From the time you're born, you have no control; you can't choose your parents, and, unless you're suicidal, you can't choose your death. The only thing you can do is choose the person you love, be kind to others, and make your brutally short stint on earth as pleasant as possible.

Jackson leaned down and pecked me on the lips. "'Bye, Em."

I grabbed his face and leaned in close to his ear. "Love you."

I'll always have trouble remembering the first time we said, I love you, because by the time we said it freely, we had been feeling it for years. It was as natural as saying, See you later.

"Love you," he said, before turning and leaving a captivated Sophia and a longing Emerson behind on the library steps.

"Oh my god, he's such a dreamboat."

I laughed. "People don't use that expression anymore, Sophie. That was, like, way before your time."

"I know, but I like it and it suits him."

"Yeah, you're right, it does. Come on, let's get some books.

Everything is going to be fine."

"I don't want to live in a storm drain, Jackson."

"Not even with me?" He laughed.

"It's not funny, and no, not even with you!"

"You won't, and we won't. Everything will be fine. You are too fucking smart, Em. Hell, I'm too fucking smart, and we work too fucking hard for this shitty life. It won't happen."

"Swear to me." My voice was tiny.

"I swear on your life," he said, and I believed him. "But right now I'm kidnapping you in some loser's truck so I can hide you in my backyard. Let's just hope we can get past this part. I don't think colleges will look too fondly at a juvenile record.

We memorialize our past. Everything seems better in a memory.

Forever is only now. Let's enjoy it and not think about tomorrow.

There is actually this one dream I keep having where I'm sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Across from me at the table are Jack Black and Jack White. Jack Black is dressed in head-to-toe white, top hat and all, and Jack White is dressed the same, but in head-to-toe black. I sit there motionless, staring at the Jacks, totally confused. They don't move, they just stare right back at me. It's f**king weird

Maybe that's what growing up was really all about. Adults always say how complicated life gets as we age, but really, I think we just look for bigger challenges to overcome. Our biggest fears stretch from sleeping without our beloved teddy bear to finding out that we have no purpose in life. Did time, maturity, and overcoming obstacles offer the kind of contentment so evident in Orvin? Or did we just simply give up and surrender to the life we were already living?

We didn't know it at the time, but we were lovesick. Our innocence was beautiful, impossible to capture again, impossible to re-create.

Will could dance and if I remember correctly, someone told me once to stay away from a man who could dance.

I was convinced we had lived twenty thousand lives, and in each one, we had found each other, like two tiny magnets in a drawer the size of the universe.

You can hate him all you want but you know it's only what he did in the end, when he was a shell of a man, that you hate. Have some sympathy for his soul, Ava.

We weren't wrong for being ourselves; we were wrong for each other.

I was learning the hard way what happens when you take the people who love you for granted.