What’s wrong is that every morning and every night, I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me.

Society is better off with me in a gym.

Do You think it matters if they're tiny or deep? he asked. Well, if they're not tiny breaths and they're not deep breaths, then they're just ... breaths. Then you're just breathing for the sake of ... breathing. ... Seize them. Feel them. Love them ...

Must have been some kind a nightmare.”“Yeah,” I answer, my usual calm, vacant voice returning. “Can’t wait to wake up.

No human can bury their past indefinitely. It’s only a matter of time before you crack.

He leans in closer and closer until his breath caresses my mouth. I’m paralyzed. I swear he’s going to kiss me. I swear I’m going to let him.

There’s no getting better, Storm. This is it.” There’s no coming back from the dead.

What the hell do I have to do to get your attention? Do I need to get up there?” I throw an arm toward the stage. His eyes swell for just a second, in shock. He reaches forward to hold my hands, but he catches himself in time and instead folds them across his chest. “Believe me, you have my full attention.

I barrel into his arms, my mouth connecting with his. Seizing him. Feeling him. Loving him.

I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don’t want to let go. Ever.