What I’ve learned is, what people want is to tell someone, anyone, their problems.

I love the grime, the real-life feel of things, the mix of dollar stores and libraries, high school students and prostitutes, little kids and dealers. What I like most about my Parkdale neighbourhood is that I can disappear.

There’s something electric about someone believing you’re the real deal.

I don’t understand what’s wrong with being whoever I want to be, especially when it feels truer sometimes than who people think I actually am.

I hate all the worry about what someone else is feeling, this crippling insecurity, this tightness in my chest.

The joy I’m feeling is too intense to express.I don’t know what’ll happen next month, or even next week. What I know is that we both want to try.

There’s something about her, I remember thinking, a little mysterious. I tried to absorb the feeling for as long as I could before I went back to work. I tried not to think about it. Feelings throw everything off.