“How do you know when it's over?" "Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you.”

“In the beginning, being alone is always a choice. Then it's not a choice anymore. When did it stop being a choice? What is it in me that stopped choosing you, that moved into you instead so that I have to be with you in order to be with myself?”

“How do you know when it's over?" "Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you.”