ya

My brain is such a traitorous beast.

His voice is both low and quiet, and it has this hypnotic rhythm to it. I wonder whether someday he'll give sermons with that voice, whether he'll throw down judgement with that voice.

I'm still dropping dishes thinking in slow motion about the GPS woman in Mom's car. I imagine her beckoning me from outside the kitchen window illuminated like some robot-angel calling me forth to the Lexus where she will ferry me off to that planet of monotonous peace that special otherworldly place where all the residents are relaxed and confident and completely numb. Your life will. Get better in. Six. Point four. Million. Miles.

Are you still upset I murdered our parents? - Tommy to Danny

He's not recruiting me to the oiled-up Gay Bliss Club of Northern Utah, but to the LDS Church.

Safe?_ Her voice was small, timid and delicate. But beautiful. The one word chimed like little bells. Her first word spoken to me.

The things that I love about you aren't going to go away when you go on your book tour, and they're not going to go away when you go on your mission. I'll still be here, and I'll still be thinking about all those things. I'll still be working on being a better person, a better friend, a better son. I'll still be wondering what it would be like to be a better boyfriend for you. And you will be on your mission, thinking about how much you wish your weren't gay.

We could use all the blessings we could get. The impact of what we were about to do hit me like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote's head. We were heading out to stop Satan's son and save the world from certain destruction. Piece of cake.

It was as if the news itself wanted to reassure me. Even Jack the Ripper himself had reappeared as part of the greeting committee.

Light bursts behind my closed eyes, so intensely I nearly hear the popping sound. It's my brain melting, or my world ending, or maybe we've just been hit by a meteor and this is the rapture and I'm given one last perfect moment before I'm sent to purgatory and he;s sent somewhere much, much better.It isn't his first kiss - I know that - but it's his first real one.

I see now that dismissing YA books because you__e not a young adult is a little bit like refusing to watch thrillers on the grounds that you__e not a policeman or a dangerous criminal, and as a consequence, I__e discovered a previously ignored room at the back of the bookstore that__ filled with masterpieces I__e never heard of.

You act like you're invincible, but I know deep down you want someone to hold your hand and buy you flowers and look you in the eye and tell you you're his soul mate. You want someone who will love every piece of you, even the pieces you can't love yourself.

Grace is my favourite church word. A state of being. Something you can pray for. Something God can grant. Something you can obtain. Perfection is out of reach. But grace -- grace you can reach for.

It's not about surviving. It should be about love. When you know love...that's what makes this life worth it. When you live with it everyday. Wake up with it, hold on to it during the thunder and after a nightmare. When love is your refuge from the death that surrounds us all and when it fills you so tight that you can't express it.

Of course the fall semester didn__ start for another eight weeks or so. There was always a chance we were both being overly optimistic in thinking I__ be alive when it rolled around.

Live your life, take chances, be crazy. Dont wait 'cause right now is the oldest you've ever been & the youngest you'll be ever again

Am I more afraidOf taking a chance andlearning I'm somebodyI don't know, or of risking new territory,only to find I'm the sameold me? There is comfortin the tried and true.Breaking groundmight uncover a sinkhole,one impossible to climb outof. And setting sail inuncharted watersmight mean capsizing intoa sea monster's jaws.Easier to turn my back onthese thingsthan to try tjem and fail.And yet, a whisper insistsI need to know if they are oraren't integral to me.Status quo is a swamp.And stagnation is slow death.

I decided to deflect her attitude by giving a long, Southern answer. I come from people who know how to draw things out. Annoy a Southerner, and we will drain away the moments of your life with our slow, detailed replies until you are nothing but a husk of your former self and that much closer to death.