“But it wasn’t just about the sex, though the sex blows my mind. I also wanted to have her around. Her over-loud laugh. Her bearish morning greetings. Her -thrashing/snuggling night-time presence. I miss her. I miss the way she always pushed me, always made me think, always made me work harder. I feel like I hadn’t ever been able to repay her for all that, and just when I was finally in a position to do it, she found the ring box.”

“I miss everything. I miss talking to her, hearing about her day. I miss her voice all gravelly and smoky, I miss hearing her laugh, I miss getting her letters, writing her letters. I miss her eyes, and the smell of her hair, and the way her breath tasted. I fucking miss everything. I miss knowing she was around, because it helped me to know that she was around, someone like her existed. I guess most of all, I miss knowing I would see her again. I always thought I'd see her again.”

“What you and I had was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt, but if it’s over for you, just kick me hard enough so I’ll remember the pain and stay out of your way.”

“Should I tell her that I can’t sleep, I can’t eat and I miss talkin’ to her? Or just sittin’ with her? That I miss the secret way she smiles at me? That I constantly think about the way she smells, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her skin, and the sound of her laughter?”

“Would that be okay? It's just a day trip. I mean I know we just met yesterday, so, it's not like creepy or anything?" His confident grin falters for a quick second, long enough for me to snap out of my idiotic stupor.That sounds awesome. I nod. Let me just grab my bag.He lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. I fight the urge to stand on my tip toes and reach his lips. Because my guess is that cramming my tongue down his throat right now, would be creepy.”

“There are no words for how much I will miss her, but I try to kiss her so that she'll know. I try to kiss her to tell her the whole story of my love, the way I dreamed of her when she was dead, the way that every other girl seemed like a mirror that showed me her face. The way my skin ached for her. The way that kissing her made me feel like I was drowning and like I was being saved all at the same time. I hope she can taste all that, bittersweet, on my tongue.”

“I missed the sound of her shuffling her homework while I listened to music on her bed. I missed the cold of her feet against my legs when she climbed into bed.I missed the shape of her shadow where it fell across the page of my book. I missed the smell of her hair and the sound of her breath and my Rilke on her nightstand and her wet towel thrown over the back of her desk chair. It felt like I should be sated after having a whole day with her, but it just made me miss her more.”