Angela N. Blount

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Everybody’s damaged. It’s just a question of how badly, and whether you’re healing or still bleeding

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I didn't just love him…I needed him. Not in some desperate "you complete me" sort of way. No, Vincent didn’t make me whole. He improved me. Something about him—something I didn't understand—had a way of amplifying the good in my nature while muting the bad. He was a catalyst for my soul. I didn't need him in order to exist...I needed him in order to be a better me

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I already knew our “ever after

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Have you ever tried thinking of God as a person instead of an all-powerful vending machine that never gives you the right amount of change? He has feelings too, you know

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Then, by your definition... I'm in love with you