I want to be angry with my parents and sometimes I am, but it never lasts. They had no idea what would happen, the strange ways our lives would separate.

It seems as if he is about to cry, he is so happy, and I’m am grateful for the mystery of why there are things you can give someone that will bring them joy, that perhaps there is this capability with all things.

There are new things, good things, that I can see for the first time in a while. It makes me smile to finally understand this, that we have only the things we are given, and we must be thankful for them, the tiny, almost imperceptible feeling on our fingertips.

He tells you that she has a split uvula and that it drives him crazy just thinking about it when she goes down on him.