Gayle Forman

Even if I were forty-one, and Bryn and I had just celebrated twenty years together, I wouldn’t want a kid with her.

The idea that nothing’s sacred.

Scratch your head or you’ll be dead.

She left for Juilliard the day after Labor Day. I drove her to the airport. She kissed me good-bye. She told me that she loved me more than life itself. Then she stepped through security.
She never came back.

safer in her custody than I do in any bouncer’s.

But you’re my freak.”

But still, I listened for the sound of her voice.

the lava leaking out, this great explosion of what, I guess to her, must look like grief.
But I’m not crying out of grief. I’m crying out of gratitude.