I've never been so aware that I am made up of bones and skin and I can practically feel my bones inching closer to the surface of my skin aching to get even closer to his.

I find myself smiling. My cheek muscles feel different - they're like a room that hasn't seen light in years that suddenly had all the blinds pulled open and the sun is beaming in at full volume. And I can't help myself, my smile keeps stretching, wider and wider.

I just need to know something about him that will make me believe that there's even a sliver of a chance that his particles have a longing to go in a certain direction and only need a nudge.

Sometimes for me, it feels like my grief is eating me alive. I always thought that the hardest moments would be when I remember things about her, but that's not true. The hardest moments are when I miss her in the future. Sure, holidays are hard, but I'm talking about the small things [...]

Sure, there are dead starts. But before they died, they were stars.And their death was a supernova - that demanded attention.

I wonder about all the so-called great experiences I'm going to miss; I wonder about the relativity of greatness

There's no saving him from his deep hole. There's no saving me from my black slug.

I can't wait until they don't have me here anymore.