“All I saw in his eyes during my last impromptu was visit was apathy. A healthy dose of it. It’s not that he hates me; it’s that he’s devoid of any type of emotions toward me.”

“Utterly engulfed,And wanting more.Buried,Drowned,Intoxicated,With the vastness of love.Losing myself as the waves wash over me,Through me,Surrounding me,Caught up in the a hurricane of overwhelming peace,I have let go,And He has found me.”

“Don’t do that to me. Losing you would not be good for my mental health, get it?”

“When someone sees something old they think it’s worth more than something new.” I’ll give them that. The history, imagining who might have stood or sat or eaten at a piece hundreds of years before gives it a value you can’t hang a price tag on, but I’ve never thought it was ten times the value of a new piece. I think some things are better when new, then you can grow old together.”

“I’ll persuade you to tell me all about what kind of waters you’ve muddled your feet in, and I’ll tell you about the trouble I’ve led skirmishes into for the past decade.”

“Its not that he didn’t appreciate his dishwasher. There was something about washing dishes by hand that was therapeutic, as if he could wash away the regrets of the past and photos he wanted to wipe out of his memory forever.”

“No! He tried to shout out but the water surged into his mouth and lungs choking his cry. Then darkness. And nothingness. Always the nothingness. Thicker this time as if it had fingers pulling him down and pulling the life out of him. Pulling his soul out of him.”