She's cute, I thought, but you don't need to like a girl who treats you like you're ten: You've already got a mom.

Most of my friends were in band, and most of my free time during school was spent within twenty feet of the band room.

I leave, and the leaving is so exhilarating I know I can never go back. But then what? Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?

As a child I was an inveterate liar. As opposed to now, I am a Novelist.

Because you're my friend, wingnut.

I know what happens a the end of falling-landing.