Maybe, The Hope Said. Maybe.

Stupid How The Mind Will Try To Distract Itself.

But Maybe Happiness Isn't In The Choosing. Maybe It's In The Fiction, In The Pretending: That Wherever We Have Ended Up Is Where We Intended To Be All Along.

And In That Moment, The Wordless Thing Passed Between Us, The Thing That Wasn't Quite Love But Was So Close I Could Believe In It Sometimes.

Love Is A Kind Of Possession. It’s A Poison.

It's Funny How You Can Know Your Friends So Well, But You Still End Up Playing The Same Games With Them.