The webs spun by our existence had gracefully overlapped and knotted until you could not have one without the other. We were infinitely intertwined.
If you can just stop loving her then you never really loved her at all. Love doesn't work that way. If you ever truly love someone, then it never goes away. It can become something else. There are all different sorts of love. It can even become hate-...
I was seventeen all over again, falling into intrigue with the boy who was an exquisite contradiction.
It was funny how all the useless knowledge you accumulated when you're in love with someone could sit for years gathering dust in the back of your mind, only to spill out at the slightest reminder.
