And At Some Point, The Struggle Becomes

I Wanted To Tell You Everything. And That Hurt Because Some Things Were Too Scary. Some Things Even I Didn’t Understand. How Could I Tell Someone—someone I Was Really Talking To For The First Time—everything I Was Thinking? I Couldn’t. It Was Too Soon.

As A Writer, My Only Responsibility Is To Tell A Compelling Story.

God, I Am Freaking Out. Maybe He Doesn’t Know. Maybe I Just Look Guilty Of Something And He’s Picking Up On That.

Because I've Heard So Many Stories That I Don't Know Which One Is The Most Popular. But I Do Know Which Is The Least Popular. The Truth.

One Little Ripple Started Today Could Create A Typhoon Fifteen Years From Now.