History isn't about dates and places and wars. It's about the people who fill the spaces between them.

Memories aren't stored in the heart or the head or even the soul, if you ask me, but in the spaces between any given two people.

True love is felonious… You take someone’s breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.

But no one ever said yes to make sex consensual. You took hints from body language, from the way two people came together. Why...Didn't a shake of the head or a hand pushing hard against a chest speak just as loudly? Why did you have to actually say the word no for it to be rape?

When your mother is made out of your dreams, anything real is bound to disappoint you.

Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late that we've wounded the people we are trying to protect.