This, I Think, Is How People Survive:

Measure The Hope Of That Moment, That Feeling. Everything Else Will Be Measured Against It.

It Daunted Me That You Were So Beautiful, That You Were So At Ease In Social Situations, As If Every Room Was Heliotropic, With You At The Center. And I Guess It Daunted You That I Had So Many More Friends Than You, That I Could Put My Words Together Like This, On Paper, And Could Sometimes Conjure A Certain Sense Out Of Things. The Key Is To Never Recognize These Imbalances. To Not Let The Dauntingness Daunt Us.

Her Vulnerability Is Open, But She’s Safe Within It.

Every Time You Love Someone, You Put Not Just Your Faith In Them, But Your Faith In Everything To The Test.

Do I Really Have To Find A Word For It? Can't It Just Be What It Is?