I'm not stupid, I know your heart's involved in this and I've never, not once in all the time you've known me, given you the idea that I won't handle it with care.

I don’t put up with the shit you’ve handed me the last week because you’re some fuckin’ piece I want to conquer. I put up with it because I’ve liked you since you were eight years old. You made me laugh. You understood me. You looked out for me when no one else fuckin’ bothered and you acted like you thought I could move mountains and I needed someone who thought that about me because my Dad sure as fuck didn’t.

God gave us a variety of ways to get hurt out and do it clean. Blood cleans a wound. Tears clean a different kind of wound. You might not like it, Frannie, but you shouldn’t stop yourself from doing it. Clean the wound so it can heal. Then move on.

Hold on tight, Cherie

She stared.
Then she busted out laughing.
And that was it.
All that he needed.
Cher was laughing.
Garett was calm.

Go to him, Sweet Pea.