We always remember our first love as if they were our last and wish our last love was just like our first.

This is a love story. Twisted and messy. Flawed and screwed up. But it's ours. It's us. I don't know how our story will end. but I know it will start.

Life is good, and there's no reason to think it won't be--right up until the moment when everything explodes into a fireball of tiny, unrecognizable fragments, or it all goes skidding sideways, through the guardrail, over the embankment, and down the mountain. This will happen (and probably more than once).

I am not your typical anything, but a portion of everything

I prefer to be a sad screwed stupid bitch, than a fucking liar, fake and pretender that has to put different masks per day.

Honesty is certificate of trust.