I love how, whenever you tell me a story, you go backwards and forwards and tell me everything else that could possibly be happening in every direction, like an explosion. Like a flower blooming.
Joey told me nothing ever goes back exactly the way it was, that things expand and contract- like breathing, but you could never fill your lungs up with the same air twice.
You must be crazy, after all, if a bird loves you.
There is something inside all boys that drives us to go away again and again and again.
People fear what they can not understand and what they can not control.