“I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to youEach one a line or two“I’m fine baby, how are you?”Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enoughMy words were cold and flatAnd you deserve more than that”

“It’s killing me, baby,” he says, his voice much more calm and quiet. “It’s killing me because I don’t want you to go another day without knowing how I feel about you. And I’m not ready to tell you I’m in love with you, because I’m not. Not yet. But whatever this is I’m feeling—it’s so much more than just like. It’s so much more. And for the past few weeks I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’ve been trying to figure out why there isn’t some other word to describe it. I want to tell you exactly how I feel but there isn’t a single goddamned word in the entire dictionary that can describe this point between liking you and loving you, but I need that word. I need it because I need you to hear me say it.”

“Two can play this game, and I don’t think he knows he is playing with fire. I’ve gotten pretty good at loving and leaving, so if this is what his cold shoulder is about, then tonight I’d be more than happy to give him a whirl and send him on his merry way. I know I’m supposed to steer clear of him, and Lord knows I do not need a relationship of any kind, but sex is just sex, right? He is gorgeous, and it’s hard not to appreciate beauty when you keep running into it head on.”

“I can see that you've been crying You can't hide it with a lie What's the use in you denying That what you have is wrong I heard him promise you forever But forevers come and gone Baby he would say whatever It takes to keep you blind To the truth between the lines Oh I will love you more than that I won't say the words, then take them back Don't give loneliness a chance Baby listen to me when I say I will love you more than that”

“I don’t think I’ll be worth shit as a father, but I’m going to be here for you and our baby until the day I die. I want you to know that I was relieved that our baby is fine, and I was devastated when I thought you might have miscarried. I’m sorry; I was a jackass because I was scared shitless. When you fell, I was terrified that I’d lost you both. I want you to have the baby Delilah. I love you more than anything, and I’ll love the baby too. How can I not when it’s a part of you?”

“I keep thinking you already know. I keep thinking I’ve sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind.”