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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Infinity is just an illusion. Something we tell ourselves we have, because truly realizing just how fragile time is would be close to crippling.
Sometimes the discomfort of indecision was preferable to the pain of choice. Especially when so many of the decisions we made in a moment could alter the rest of our lives.
What were the odds? The odds that two men so shattered would meet? The odds that all our broken pieces would somehow fit together to create something whole?
Death is more than a punishment. It’s more than revenge. It’s permanent. It’s unforgiving. It was now my fear.
Arrow wasn’t anything to me—except the potential to be everything.
But then there were these moments of unbridled restraint, when the landmines were momentarily shut off and all that existed between us was everything we felt for each other.
His eyes were like a compass for me, pointing me in the direction I needed to go.
It was scary to let someone in. In your heart. In your mind. In your body.
I need to stop letting being gay define me and instead define being gay.”
“How in the hell could you have given me your heart?” I wondered aloud. “Because you’re the one who taught it to beat again.”
Being a survivor made every moment, every kind word a little more meaningful, because they were the ones who knew what almost never was.
I might not be ready to tell him those three words, but I would always, no matter what, treat him as if I already had.
