“the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learnt small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.”

“i don't know when love became elusivewhat i know, is that no one i know has itmy fathers arms around my mothers neckfruit too ripe to eat, a door half way openwhen your name is a just a hand i can never holdeverything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.i think of lovers as trees, growing to andfrom one another searching for the same light,my mothers laughter in a dark room,a photograph greying under my touch,this is all i know how to do, carry loss around untili begin to resemble every bad memory,every terrible fear,every nightmare anyone has ever had.i ask did you ever love me?you say of course, of course so quicklythat you sound like someone elsei ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron?you cry on the phone, my stomach hurtsi let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay.”

“Kate, I’ve loved you for years. I mean, I know twelve-year-olds don’t know what love is, so I guess I should say I’ve really liked you for years. But when I saw you this year, I knew. I knew we should be together. I just didn’t know how hard you were going to make me work to get you to even like me. So, yeah, of course I want you to love me back.”

“you must wear it like she wears disappointment on her faceyou must hide the surprise of tasting other men on your lipsyour mother is a woman and women like her cannot be contained.you find the black tube inside her beauty case, where she keepsyour fathers old prison letters,you desperately want to look like herfilm star beauty, you hold your hand against your throatyour mother was most beautiful when sprawled out on the floorhalf naked and bleeding.you go to the bathroom to apply the lipstick,somewhere no one can find youyour teeth look brittle against the deep red slicknessyou smile like an infant, your mouth is a woundyou look nothing like your motheryou look everything like your mother.you call your ex boyfriend, sit on the toilet seat and listen tothe phone ring, when he picks up you say his name slowhe says i thought i told you to stop calling meyou lick your lips, you taste like years of being alone.”

“If I searched a hundred years, I couldn’t find the words to tell you how you make me feel…or how much I love you. Do you know that?”

“Do you know the saying Chan Vaen edan Kote?'I tried to puzzle it out. 'Seven years... I don't know Kote''Expect disaster every seven years,' he said.”

“you were like an ulcer on the inside of my cheek that my tongue could not stop touching.loving you was like watching a stranger clean a week old wound; i felt sick, but i wanted more.”