The Best Kind of Magic

You never know what you're getting into when you fall in love, but that doesn't mean you avoid the jump.

I'm not saying that people can't be happy or fulfilled on their own; of course they can. But being open to the possibility of love doesn't make you weak; it actually makes you strong.

Stupid would be denying my heart something it wants just because it's afraid. I'm not going to live in life in fear just because of the unknown.

..the heart is a hell of a machine. Even when it's broken, it still finds a way to carry on.

But now I know: the heart, for all its strength, beats blindly.

It's kind of hard to properly work up a full-blown crush when you know you'll never be the endgame.

Suddenly we're not just two people dancing around the same space, we are the same space, moving as one.

Or maybe our paths will diverge someday, taking us in separate directions, making our relationship a brief but beautiful spot in a series of unforgettable encounters. Either way, it will be a journey worth taking. Either way, it will be a love story.

...a life - and a story - cannot be defined simply by the way one says good-bye. It's the introductions, the mistakes, and the triumphs that create a clear picture of who we are and where's we're going. Appreciate the journey, because when you get to the end, you'll only be able to look back and hope you don't regret what you see.

This got me thinking about endings and how the final moments of a story can color our entire perception of a narrative. But endings aren't the epitome of a story; they are just how it stops. The real story is the middle: the ups and downs, the lefts and rights. There are so many directions a story can go, and it's that meaty middle that gives us insight in what is truly going on.

The merging of two lives, the threshold of possibility: it's an energy unlike anything else.

I don't know how it all works, and maybe it seems like nothing to you, but watching you do it [...] you were basically taking away those creatures' fears of being alone by giving them the promise of love. Do you have any idea how incredible that is?

Where does anyone come from? We're all just individuals trying to get through our days.

If you are lucky enough to find love, you should celebrate it. You should shout it from the rooftops, or sing it in a song, or compete in a reality show to make your dream come true. You shouldn't let love pass by unnoticed, especially because there are many who will never experience it.

Wanting to find love does not make someone weak; it's not a character flaw. Life is hard, and grueling, and having someone root for you and travel beside you is a gift that anyone in this world be lucky to have. I'm not saying that people can't be happy or fulfilled on their own; of course they can. But being open to the possibility of love doesn't make you weak; it actually makes you strong.

I've missed the opening rituals of a morning pep rally. Darn this school and its constant onslaught of organized student gatherings! I mean, I wouldn't immediately land on "peppy" as an adjective for myself, so how am I supposed to conjure it for a group of people who are only being celebrated because they happen to show a slight advantage in athleticism? So you can take an air-filled shape and put it through another shape--so what? Didn't we get applause for that sort of thing as toddlers? Is this really something we have to cheer for?

Isn't it weird how you can have an amazing weekend and still find yourself surrounded by the same wooden desks and wooden people come Monday morning?

I've never understood the appeal of fur nor how it became such a status symbol. "Look at me and my financial ability to wear an animal carcass on my back! Huzzah!" Gross.

I think it's hilarious how school administrators think making kids dress alike for school will force them to view each other as equals. It is the furthest from the truth. Uniforms inspire students to be more creative, to really dig deep and search hard for character flaws and other irregularities worthy of potential abuse.

...aren't the memories worth something? Does it all have to be swept under the rug of regret?

Maybe  there's no scientific evidence of desserts curing what ails you, but if you ask me, the jury's still out on science anyway.