“Let's go into the woods and take some pictures," you said. "I found this old camera.""Let go!" you screamed. "Let go of me!""You have to let go," the counselor told me. "Let go of what you're holding inside."I can touch the picture but it's not your face.I can touch the screen but it's not your face.Let go.”

“If we actually thought about every decision we made, we'd be paralyzed ... You have to decide which decisions you're actually going to make, and then you have to let the rest of them go.”

“shouldn't letting go be painless if you've never learned how to hold on?”

“You never let things go unanswered for too long. Emails. Phone calls. Questions. As if you know the waiting is the hardest part for me.”

“I'm still upset with my mother, though. And scared.If you lose me, I remember her saying when I was little and we'd go to a department store, just let one of those salesladies know, and they will take you to where I can find you. Even though I'm seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true-- that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.”

“I remembered a time we were going through magazines. There was this one model who looked icy to the touch, in total control. I told you that, andyou said, “That’s what makes it a good photograph. You think you know what’s going on in her head. But the truth? No matter how good aphotograph is, you can never tell what’s going on in the person’s mind. There’s no way to get from here” (you pointed to the room) “to there” (youpointed to her head).”

“I love a man who doesn’t let go of the leash, even when it leads him to ruin.”