“I learned that love wasn't a magical thing. It was something more like hormones and sensations. It was tolerance and patience. It was accepting one another despite our differences and forgiving each other even when the other didn't deserve it. Love, for Beau and I, was anything but easy. It boiled down to us understanding one another and learning to enjoy each other.Eventually, I loved him like I breathed air.”

“The downside of feeling again was that, along with compassion for others came the full realization of my feelings for Beau. I truly surrendered to my love for him; I let him in completely. It was the one thing that could hurt me if it went badly and it was the one thing I couldn’t stop.”

“Every word from Kismet’s mouth sounded like poetry spoken with the most fervent passion one could conjure up. I couldn’t understand how he could stand to have such intensity building inside him. I watched, captivated by each breath in between his words. I found myself tracing the lines of his face over and over and leaning into him.”

“I felt electric when he touched me. I’d had crushes before; when your body melts and tingles but this was different. It was like a magnetic pull. Every cell in my body pulled toward him. It was almost uncomfortable but I found myself craving another touch.”

“I didn’t know whether it was the wine or the night air that held its sway over me, but I felt alive. I looked up at Beau’s cloudy gray eyes and wondered what he was thinking. At the time, I imagined he was thinking what I was; that I was wrong about everything.If love exists, this is what it feels like.”

“His voice was terrifying and seemed to scrape across my skin as if it were a tangible thing. Something inside me agreed, as if it were even possible to give something like that. I didn’t even really believe in a soul, but in that moment I could feel it writhing inside me.”

“I could feel it then like I feel it now, like a palpable thing inside me, like a physical touch; what we shared was not accidental and nothing close to normal. It was not imagined or fabricated out of loneliness or the conditions under which we were brought to New Haven. It was given to us, meant only for us. It was a gift much like the "special gifts" that brought us to New Haven.”