The silence is the worst part of any fight, because it's made up of all the things we wish we could say, if only we had the guts.

He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.

Life is a deep and contemplative story stuck on repeat. love, loss, self-destruction, self-discovery

Love exists in powder. Love exists in pills. We are all addicts.

We are symbolic. We are driving to the edge of the city and talking in vague-yet-resolute certainties about our dreams and our futures. We are leaving certain things in the medicine cabinet. We are falling in love.