“And even though I’d cried in my bed every night since, feeling his phantom arms around me, it had been worth eight hours Saturday night. The pleasure then was worth the pain now.”

“I don't really care what it is," he said, "because after everything that's happened in my life, I get to crawl into bed with you every night.”

“I wanted you to feel the rage boil in my blood when I found out you were going on a date...with him tonight," he cursed the word, "after being with me last night. I wanted you to feel the same pain I did. The goddamn same debilitating pain.”

“How do you feel?” I asked, trying to bring my heart rate down. It wasn’t having any of it. “How’s your head?”“My head’s fine,” he said, winding his arms around my back. “It’s my goddamn heart that’s about ready to bust something.”

“Love isn’t only love, sweetheart. It’s hard work, and trust, and tears, with even a few glimpses of devastation. But at the end of each day, if you can still look at the person at your side and can’t imagine anyone else you’d rather have there, the pain and heartache and the ups and downs of love are worth it.”

“It's because you're letting the fairy tales you grew up hearing in storybooks and the baseless ideas of love cloud your mind. Love isn't easy. Especially the really good kind. It's difficult, and you'll want to rip your hair out just as many days you'll feel the wind at your back." She paused smiling to herself. "But it's worth it. It's worth fighting for”

“Love isn’t easy. Especially the really good kind. It’s difficult, and you’ll want to rip your hair out just as many days as you’ll feel the wind at your back. But it’s worth it. It’s worth fighting for. Don’t let what isn’t real blind you from what is. Life isn’t perfect, we sure as shit aren’t perfect, so why should we expect love to be?”