The Gravity of Us

Don't aim to fix people. Fixing seems so permanent, so absolute. Like there's no room for error. Aim to make things better.

People aren’t broken, and therapists couldn’t fix them if they were. But maybe someone can make things a little better, or help them be a little happier.

If you want to kiss me, kiss me because you like me. Not because you think it will make you happy. You can't just kiss away all the bad feelings I have. You can't kiss me and make me better.

I'm a planner. Plans can change, I'm cool with that, but not having a plan at all? It terrifies me.

Nostalgia is a blindfold.

The future is hard, eh?

Headphones on, I fix myself so I can go back to fixing the world.

Oooh, look at my athlete. You’ll have to show me your somersault someday.” “Oh, so I’m your athlete now?” My face flushes with heat, and I reach for the air-conditioning. As I direct all vents toward me, he leans forward, slowly, and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “I like the sound of that,” he says. “Being yours.

Don’t aim to fix people. Fixing seems so permanent, so absolute. Like there’s no room for error. Aim to make things better.

I hadn't yet thought about coming back, really, because I never thought about leaving.

Seriously. No more apologies about this. I love you.” “And I love you.” “And that’s all,” I say. “That’s all that matters.

That's what makes our relationship so different from any other I've had. That's what makes it so special. I'm learning not fixing. For once, I'm listening - or at least I'm trying to.

Fixing seems so permanent, so absolute. Like there’s no room for error. Aim to make things better.

And we enter a new era.

I don’t have a favorite, but I literally couldn’t go to the gym for practice without my K-pop playlist.

Or maybe I’m just being dramatic.