Wildflowers?” she asked, confused. “She said you liked them. She said to tell you to braid them into your hair.

The boy in the closet is your boyfriend. He loves you and will tell you all about last night.” “Cute,” I say, feeling my eyelids droop and sleep approach. “Don’t forget to tell me about the last hour in the closet.” “I’ll re-create it for you tomorrow,” Luke says...

For me, reading is remembering.

Carefree, peaceful... those words reminds me of you.” Matt says without hesitation, surprising me with his frankness.

Jo Lane had in fact lived there for five years until she moved on. “Where did she go?” I asked innocently, not getting it. “I’m so sorry to be the one telling you this, but Jo passed last winter,” the young nurse said. “She died,” she added, probably because of my dazed look.

When I finally accept it, the truth stings. But there’s no time to dwell on it, and there are only two choices: I can remind myself about someone who is not a part of my life, or I can leave him out of my notes to save myself from going through this all over again tomorrow.

My dreams don’t work with its mission. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I won’t waste any more energy being hurt by it either.

Who knows until we experience it? I think that heaven and reincarnation are both ways of making us feel better about what happens to people’s souls after death. I hope at least one of them is true.

The simplicity of knowing what’s coming isn’t so simple after all.

I think it’s just the whole package. I can’t pick you apart. I just love all of you. I think I always have.