“I cry, because I know what I felt from him, even if I cannot and dare not allow it be named.”

“This kiss...I'm gone. Gone. I know in that moment, that I belong to him. It's what he said: I'm his. How it happened, I don't know. I really wish I did.”

“I hold her. I don’t tell her it’s okay.“Be mad,” I say. “Be hurt. Be broken. Cry.”

“What can I say? I've never met a cupcake I didn't want to get to know better.”

“How do you compete with a ghost, Colton?" I whisper the question into a long silence.He shrugs. "I don't know. You don't. You just understand that there's a part of you that you can't give away, because it belongs to a dead person. I don't know.”

“I can tell you what I see. I can tell you what I know about you. I can tell you how I feel. I can’t show you what you really are. But arguing with you won’t accomplish anything. I think we’ve both had our share of people trying to fix us. It doesn’t work. We can only fix ourselves. Let ourselves heal.”

“I do not know how he even managed to do what he did. He should not have been able to, but he did. He defended my home. Me. Himself. Us.”