In the end there doesn’t have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to.

Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.

It’s a lot easier to be angry at someone than it is to tell them you’re hurt.

It’s not the length of time we knew someone that makes them so special. It’s what they brought into our lives.

I cry a lot because I miss people. They die, and I can’t stop them. They leave me, and I love them more.

Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes something to be avoided at all costs. Miss them until you don’t have to anymore, until you’re reunited in your favorite booth in your favorite restaurant ordering your favorite meal, miss them until it feels like you never left. Or miss them until you can’t anymore, until the things you miss are identified and cataloged as things and not a person, until you figure out that easy company and long talks and unblinking, all-knowing eye contact will find you again the way they found you the first time. Miss someone until you don’t.