The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

I don't know," I stuttered, "Do you love me?" His gaze was so intent the entire world seemed to stop. "You tell me. I never stop thinking about you. I worry about you all the time. Every beautiful thing I see reminds me of you. I can't finish my practices in Colorado with out wishing you were around," he said in a steady tone. "You tell me what I feel.

I'm starting to understand that you can always make time for the things that matter.

What no one tells you is that the road to accomplishing your goals isn’t a straight line; it looks more like a corn maze. You stopped, you went, you backed up, and took a few wrong turns along the way, but the important thing you had to remember was that there was an exit. Somewhere.

When life gives you lemons, you get to choose what you make out of them; it doesn’t always have to be lemonade.

What if everyone hates me and no one talks to me? What if someone throws something at me?” Aiden snorted, setting the shirt he’d been holding aside and picking up the next one on the pile. “What are they going to throw? Bookmarks?

The only people in the world who can hurt you are those you let have that ability, Van.

That’s my girl. That’s my fucking girl.

Home is where you are. I would go anywhere for you if you wanted me there.

Because every relationship will end up one of two ways: you’ll end up breaking up, or you end up marrying the person. And I don’t like wasting my time.

I need a friend—I need you.

I had a temper. I got angry easily. But I had made myself learn how to control it. I had decided early on that I wasn’t going to let that emotion define me. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to be someone—not necessarily someone great or someone important—but someone I could live with.

Life was all about choices. You chose what to make out of what you had. And I wasn’t going to let it make me its bitch. I could be a mature adult who knew her limits. I could be a good person. Maybe not all the time, but enough.

When I was a kid, I learned the hard way how expensive the truth was. Sometimes it cost you people in your life. Sometimes it cost you things in your life. And in this life, most people were too cheap to pay the price for something as valuable as honesty.

He was lucky I had a tiny, itty, bitty crush on him; otherwise, he would have gotten the shank years ago. Then

My middle finger twitched, but I kept it under wraps and with its brothers and sisters. We

Extra money? I never said no to extra money. Unless it required a blowjob.

Oh, I’d heard him. Loud and clear. That was why I wanted to kill him. Which basically showed how amazing the human mind was; how you could care about someone but want to slit his or her throat at the same time. Like having a sister who you wanted to punch right in the ovaries. You still loved her, you just wanted to sock her right in the baby-maker to teach her a lesson—not that I knew from experience or anything.

It was right then, in that instant, that I realized I might be a little in love with Aiden. Not in a way that was anything like the easy crush I had on him in the past, but different. So, so different.

And just like a dream, there were no assurances behind it. It didn’t grow on its own. It didn’t blossom without food to feed it. It was the greatest in its subtleties. It was the strongest in its selflessness.

Like football and art, like anything that anyone in the world has ever wanted, love was a dream. And just like a dream, there were no assurances behind it. It didn’t grow on its own. It didn’t blossom without food to feed it. It was the greatest in its subtleties. It was the strongest in its selflessness. And it could be forever with someone who wasn’t afraid to never give up on the possibilities it presents.

no one was impervious to Little Foot losing his mom. Nobody.

The only people in the world who can hurt you are those you let have that ability,

he usually wasn’t a model for Asswipe & Fitch. At

I would have done just about anything for you back then, even when you got on my nerves. I might have just waited until the last minute to push you out of oncoming traffic, but I’d still push you out of the way.

Because that was the way surprises worked—they didn’t tend to pencil themselves in to your schedule and let you know they were visiting ahead of time.

I was going to murder his ass. One day. One day long after I quit, so no one would suspect me.

But I can't remember anymore what it's like to not be happy.

I thought broken things couldn’t help but love other broken things.

Which basically showed how amazing the human mind was; how you could care about someone but want to slit his or her throat at the same time.