“Yes. I’m going to sink into what I feel for you. I’m going to sink into the good times and the scary shit. I’m going to sink with you, because I’m tired of drifting and treading, never committing to anything. I want to sink with you.”

“You just don’t get it. The point I’m trying to make—the point you’re deliberately ignoring—is that tomorrow it might all go away. You have to do what you want and take what you want now.”

“Isn’t ‘I need space’ the universal couples equivalent of ‘I need you to pack your shit and get out of my life’?”

“I go still. Stone still. Ice statue still. Han Solo in carbonite still”

“Everything I do with you feels like an adventure”

“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.”

“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.”