I've Lost Track Of Where Friendship Ends

We Were Painting By Numbers, Starting With The Greens. Because That Happened To Be Our Favorite Color. And This, We Figured, Had To Mean Something.

Incessant Adj. The Doubts. You Had To Save Me From My Constant Doubts. That Deep-seeded Feeling That I Wasn't Good Enough For Anything I Was A Fake At My Job I Wasn't Your Equal My Friends Would Forget Me If I Moved Away For A Month. It Wasn't As Easy As Hearing Voices Nobody Was Telling Me This. It Was Just Something I Knew. Everyone Else Was Playing Along But I Was Sure That One Day They Would All Stop.

I Learn About The Highs And Lows Of Living With The Same Mother For Your Entire Life, About How No One Can Make You Angrier, But How You Can't Really Love Anyone More.

There Has To Be A Moment At The Beginning Where You Wonder Whether You’re In Love With The Person Or In Love With The Feeling Of Love Itself. If The Moment Doesn’t Pass, That’s It—you’re Done. And If The Moment Does Pass, It Never Goes That Far. It Stands In The Distance, Ready For Whenever You Want It Back. Sometimes It’s Even There When You Thought You Were Searching For Something Else, Like An Escape Route, Or Your Lovers’ Face.

I Am Made For Running. Because When You Run, You Could Be Anyone. You Hone Yourself Into A Body, Nothing More Or Less Than A Body. You Respond As A Body, To The Body. If You Are Racing To Win, You Have No Thoughts But The Body's Thoughts, No Goals But The Body's Goals. You Obliterate Yourself In The Name Of Speed. You Negate Yourself In Order To Make It Past The Finish Line.