Once, I Was Easy. Now, I Was

The Bottom Line Is, What Defines You Isn't How Many Times You Crash, But The Number Of Times You Get Back On The Bike. As Long As It's One More. You're All Good.

The Fate Of Your Heart Is Your Choice And No One Else Gets A Vote

As Far As I Was Concerned, We'd Come To A Draw: I Hadn't Wanted To Come, And She Didn't Want Me To Leave. We Were Even. But I Knew My Mother Wouldn't See It That Way. Lately, We Didn't Seem To See Anything The Same.

I Jammed My Hand In My Jacket Pocket, Bracing Myself Fo The Next Hit, And Fel Something. Something Grainy And Samll, Sticking To The Tips Of My Fingers: The Sand From Commons Park. Oh Cass, I Thought. I Miss You So, So Much.

What You Need, What You Deserve, Is A Guy Who Adores You For What You Are. Who Doesn't See You As A Project, But A Prize. You Know?