So Much Of Courtship Is The Unspoken.

The Minute Our Correspondence Becomes Obligatory, There's No Point In Keeping Touch At All.

What Are Your Thoughts?' 'my Thoughts?' I Replied, Before I Even Realized What I Was Saying. 'my Thoughts Created My World.' Mac Sat Up In His Seat. He Scrunched His Curls With His Hands, Perplexed. 'who Said That?' I Told Him The Truth. 'oh, Just Someone I Used To Know,' I Said, Stroking The Naked Skin On My Middle Finger.

I Thought Marcus Was Going To Be In My Life Forever. Then I Thought I Was Wrong. Now He’s Back. But This Time I Know What’s Certain: Marcus Will Be Gone Again, And Back Again And Again And Again Because Nothing Is Permanent. Especially People. Strangers Become Friends. Friends Become Lovers. Lovers Become Strangers. Strangers Become Friends Once More, And Over And Over. Tomorrow, Next Week, Fifty Years From Now, I Know I’ll Get Another One-word Postcard From Marcus, Because This One Doesn’t Have A Period Signifying The End Of The Sentence. Or The End Of Anything At All.

Fear Is The Greatest Form Of Oppression. The Best Way To Rise Up In Protest Is To Live Your Life To Its Fullest!

Ever Notice How People Wait Until They're Not Going To See You Anymore To Say Something Nice To You?