“It’s me and you, or me and knitting. Don’t make me choose. Ugh, #love.”

“Don’t make me beg, Kitten. Don’t make me beg in front of all these people. It’s embarrassing.”

“Me: “I refuse to attend Support Group.”Mom: “One of the symptoms of depression is disinterest in activities.”Me: “Please just let me watch America’s Next Top Model. It’s an activity.”Mom: “Television is a passivity.”Me: “Ugh, Mom, please.”Mom: “Hazel, you’re a teenager. You’re not a little kid anymore. You need to make friends, get out of the house, and live your life.”Me: “If you want me to be a teenager, don’t send me to Support Group. Buy me a fake ID so I can go to clubs, drink vodka, and take pot.”Mom: “You don’t take pot, for starters.”Me: “See, that’s the kind of thing I’d know if you got me a fake ID.”Mom: “You’re going to Support Group.”Me: “UGGGGGGGGGGGGG.”Mom: “Hazel, you deserve a life.”

“I'm a prick half the time, but you make me better. You make me happy. I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Stay with me”…“I don’t have a choice,” I told him.“You do. Choose me, Soph.”

“You once told me that I make you believe in the impossible. You make me believe in love, which I’d given up on. Thank you for proving to me it’s not just a fairy tale.”