You can obsess and obsess over how things ended—what you did wrong or could have done differently—but there's not much of a point. It's not like it'll change anything. So really, why worry?

Sometimes, remembering hurts too much.

There’s always that one guy who gets a hold on you. Not like your best friend’s brother who gets you in a headlock kind of hold. Or the little kid you’re babysitting who attaches himself to your leg kind of hold. I’m talking epic. Life changing. The “can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do your homework, can’t stop giggling, can’t remember anything but his smile” kind of hold. Like, Wesley and Buttercup proportions. Harry and Sally. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. The kind of hold in all your favorite ’80s songs, like the “Must Have Been Love”s, the “Take My Breath Away”s, the “Eternal Flame”s—the ones you sing into a hairbrush-microphone at the top of your lungs with your best friends on a Saturday night.

For the record, I would like to point out that it is NOT being obsessive to memorize a boy's schedule so that you can accidentally bump into him. It is called being efficient.

News flash, Bozo. Don't ever tell a girl to relax. It only makes us madder.

In the midst of happiness or despairin sorrow or in joyin pleasure or in pain:Do what is right and you will be at peace.

War is sweet to those who have never fought.

He gave me a small smile, and in that smile I saw our whole catastrophic history playing out before my eyes.

In the midst of happiness or despairin sorrow or in joyin pleasure or in pain:Do what is right and you will be at peace.In life there is no greater gift than peace,except love.May you always have love.

There's always that one guy who gets a hold on you.

News flash: The whole thing is a huge mess and a giant nightmare and it’s all about to explode in your face and you have no idea whatyou’ve gotten yourself into. Love is no game. People cut their ears off over this stuff. People jump off the Eiffel Tower and sell all theirpossessions and move to Alaska to live with the grizzly bears, and then they get eaten and nobody hears them when they scream for help.That’s right. Falling in love is pretty much the same thing as being eaten alive by a grizzly bear.Believe me, I should know.

I skipped toward him and gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Yup.”He looked at me like I was crazy. “What was that for?”I smiled. “For being an excellent partner in crime.

Love hurts us all, no matter how old or young we are.

One nice thing about heaven is that you can relive all your favorite moments and memories pretty much as many times as you want—sort of like a DVD of your whole life. Pause, rewind, fast-forward, slowwww motion, all day, every day.

There’s always that one guy who gets a hold on you. The “can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do your homework, can’t stop giggling can’t remember anything but his smile kind of hold.

And yes, when he kisses you, the rest of the world disappears and your brain shuts off and all you can feel are his lips and nothing else matters.

Love is no game. People cut their ears off over this stuff. People jump off the Eiffel Tower and sell all their possessions and move to Alaska to live with the grizzly bears, and then they get eaten and nobody hears them when they scream for help. That’s right. Falling in love is pretty much the same thing as being eaten alive by a grizzly bear.

You did love me," I whispered. "Just not the same way I loved you.

I was falling. Falling through time and space and stars and sky and everything in between. I fell for days and weeks and what felt like lifetime across lifetimes. I fell until I forgot I was falling.