I wanted 
to talk about it.
Damn it.
I wanted to scream. 
I wanted to yell.
I wanted to
shout about it.
But all I could do
was whisper
‘I’m fine.’

What’s your greatest fear?” she asks.
“To be forgotten,” I tell her. “But not just that. To be forgotten by a person who I could never forget.

J’aurais dû être plus gentile—I should have been more kind. That is something a person will never regret. You will never say to yourself when you are old, Ah, I wish I was not good to that person. You will never think that.