“I had a feeling of shame about my grief, as if I was making false amends for the bitterness I felt towards him when he was alive.”

“And, I just can't shake this feeling I have when I'm around him. The chemistry, The electricity I feel when he's close to me or touches me, makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt”

“When he smiles at me, I feel like I'm sitting under a heat lamp. I live for the times when his fingers brush my leg at lunch, or when we pass in the hallways and he raises his eyebrows at me, like we have a secret. I should feel bad--and I do, most of the time--but how can I stop thinking about him when seeing his face makes me feel so alive?”

“I have to admit, I wasn't close to my old man when he was alive. He was hardly ever home. But now that he was gone, and I was back in Pittsburgh, I thought about him all the time. I felt closer to the guy since he'd been buried than I ever did when he was walking around above ground. I realized how much I loved him.”

“Even though I hated the sympathy people felt toward me, I couldn't help but feel it toward him.”

“When something is right you just feel it - and I definitely felt it, my whole body felt it. He was the one for me. The one that would drive me crazy and make me laugh even when I was sad. He was the one I wanted to hold me when I cried, the one I wanted to call when I had happy news. He was just the one.”