“I love who you are. Because you accept me for who I am. You make me laugh, sometimes even at myself. And you make me happy.”

“You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who would make you so.”

“I love you, Billie. Give me the chance to make you happy. To show you who I really am – the man who can’t live without you. The man who deserves your heart”

“Time passes and I am still not through it. Grief isn't something you get over. You live with it. You go on on with it lodged in you. Sometimes I feel like I have swallowed a pile of stones. Grief makes me heavy. It makes me slow. Even on days when I laugh a lot, or dance, or finish a project, or meet a deadline, or celebrate, or make love, it is there. Lodged deep inside of me.”

“You want me to say something? Okay. Sometimes I think I am what you made me. And sometimes I don’t know who I am at all. And either way I’m not happy.”

“Well you should care. About my past, I mean. Because who I am today is based on who I was, and what happened to me. You are in love with who you think I am, not the real me. Not the me who is broken inside.”