Ramona Blue

I hate this idea that boys are thinking about sex nonstop and girls are thinking about - what? Stationery and garden gnomes? No.

It’s sad that sometimes we let ourselves believe that if it’s not bad, it must be good.” I carve out a corner of my memory for his words, because it’s a sentiment I don’t want to forget. It’s an idea that feels dangerous, because it makes me want more,

Sometimes catastrophes split you in half and even if all the pieces are there, they might not ever fit back together.

You've never dated any guys?' I shrug. 'Haven't even kissed one.' And then I add, 'Well, in recent years.' 'Then how do you know you don't like guys?' 'I don't know, Freddie,' I say, trying to hide my irritation. 'How many boys did you kiss before you realized you were straight?

There's something about early mornings that makes me feel like I've got the whole planet to myself.

I’ll never figure out how it is that some people can work so hard and get paid so little, while so many people who are paid the most hardly work at all.

Love doesn't disappear when you give it away, and new love doesn't make old love any less legitimate.

Water has always been my siren song. Any kind of water—oceans, lakes, pools. There’s something about being weightless that makes me think anything is possible. My whole body exhales in a way that it can’t when I’m standing on land.

As sweet as it was for him to help me with my boots, there’s something powerful about taking off my own clothing and choosing to reveal myself to someone as dear to me as he is.

My heart is elastic. I realize it for the first time. For so long I thought there was a limit to how much love I could hold and who I could give it to. But life is so much more dynamic than that. Love doesn’t disappear when you give it away, and new love doesn’t make old love any less legitimate.

It seems to me that childhood ends and adult life begins the moment you stop believing your parents can rescue you.

I choose guys. I choose girls. I choose people. But most of all: I choose.

You know, we used to be stuck writing letters to each other and waiting weeks or even months to hear back. The phone is a modern miracle, and now all of a sudden we're too cool for it?

It's sad that sometimes we let ourselves believe that if it's not bad, it must be good.

At what point does another person's extraordinary become your ordinary?

I will survive, because I have survived.

The idea that I'm someone's best friend fills my rib cage with summer.

That feeling I get when I’m riding my bike down the steep hill of Freddie’s street is the only way I know how to explain it. The world around me is a blur except for him. I feel like

Damn,” I hiss. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandpa.” There’s so much more I want to say. But there’s some invisible barrier there between us created by the years we’ve spent apart. He

Life isn't written in the stars. Fate is ours to pen. I choose guys. I choose girls. I choose people. But most of all: I choose.

but part of being family is accepting one another's flaws with the knowledge that sometimes people never change, and you have to decide what and who you can live with or without.

I imagine what life would look like if I stayed here in this trailer with Dad. I can't think of him alone. I'm scared that somehow he might wilt away without Hattie or me here. But if I stay, I might just wilt away, too.

but I'm starting to think that maybe the gist of life is learning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Because just like out in Agnes's backyard and in Adam's movie room, the world is dark and it's hard to remember that we exist outside of this moment.

Life isn’t always written in the stars. Fate is mine to pen. I choose guys. I choose girls. I choose people. But most of all: I choose.

El amor no desaparece cuando lo das y un nuevo amor no hace que el amor viejo sea menos válido.

I know he’s probably exaggerating, but the idea that I’m someone’s best friend fills my rib cage with summer.

I wonder if God runs some kind of lottery up in heaven and that's how he decides who's going where and with whom.

My first thought isn't that I'm gay or that Freddie is a boy or that he's one of my best friends. His lips are lips. They're soft and they taste like pumpkin pie and whiskey.