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"I like her color. She's yellow. Pretty yellow. Like flowers. She's like a flower, Blake."
"Oh, Blake. You ... You are so beautiful. You're so talented and gifted and your words are ..." She shook her head, planting her hand against her chest again and again. "Your words are your heart, and it's broken, but it's not ugly. You're not ugly."
“How have I not seen you before?” Snickering, she shook her head. “You probably wouldn’t have noticed me if you had.” I didn’t say it, but that was bullshit. To not notice her would’ve been to ignore the sun. It was impossible.
“And what is it you think I am to you?” I asked instead, surprised to find my voice so hushed, I could barely hear it myself. And without hesitation, she answered, “You’re the man I’m meant to love.”
“You fight hard and love even harder, and that’s what I want. I want you.”

