One Day We'll All Be Dead, And

Some Think Love Can Be Measured By The Amount Of Butterflies In Their Tummy. Others Think Love Can Be Measured In Bunches Of Flowers, Or By Using The Words 'for Ever.' But Love Can Only Truly Be Measured By Actions. It Can Be A Small Thing, Such As Peeling An Orange For A Person You Love Because You Know They Don't Like Doing It.

Besides, I'd Seen A Really Nice Pair Of Shoes Yesterday In The Mall And I Wanted Them For My Own. I Can't Describe The Feeling Of Immediate Familiarity That Rushed Between Us. The Moment I Clapped Eyes On Them I Felt Like I Already Owned Them. I Could Only Suppose That We Were Together In A Former Life. That They Were My Shoes When I Was A Serving Maid In Medieval Britain Or When I Was A Princess In Ancient Egypt. Or Perhaps They Were The Princess And I Was The Shoes. Who's To Know? Either Way I Knew That We Were Meant To Be Together.

Failed Relationships Can Be Described As So Much Wasted Make-up.

Although Will Never Love Anyone Again, Don't Want To Become Bitter. Or Creative.

I Couldn’t Be With People And I Didn’t Want To Be Alone. Suddenly My Perspective Whooshed And I Was Far Out In Space, Watching The World. I Could See Millions And Millions Of People, All Slotted Into Their Lives; Then I Could See Me—i’d Lost My Place In The Universe. It Had Closed Up And There Was Nowhere For Me To Be. I Was More Lost Than I Had Known It Was Possible For Any Human Being To Be.