I think the idea of a 'mental health day' is something completely invented by people who have no clue what it's like to have bad mental health. The idea that your mind can be aired out in twenty-four hours is kind of like saying heart disease can be cured if you eat the right breakfast cereal.…
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David Levithan
David Levithan (born September 7, 1972) is an American young adult fiction author and editor. His first book, Boy Meets Boy, was published by Knopf Books for Young Readers in 2003. He has written numerous works featuring strong male gay characters, most notably Boy Meets Boy and Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List. At 19, Levithan received an internship at Scholastic Corporation where he began working on the The Baby-sitters Club series. Levithan still works for Scholastic as an editorial director. Levithan is also the founding editor of PUSH, a young-adult imprint of Scholastic Press focusing on new voices and new authors. PUSH publishes edgier material for young adults and is where Patricia McCormick got her start with 2002's Cut. In an interview with Barnes & Noble, Levithan claimed that he learned how to write books that were both funny and touching from Judith Viorst's Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. He continues to work as both a writer and editor saying, "I love editing just as much, if not more than writing". Levithan's first collaboration with Rachel Cohn, Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, was published in 2006 and adapted for the big screen in 200
This is why we call people exes, I guess - because the paths that cross in the middle end up separating at the end. it's too easy to see an X as a cross-out. It's not, because there's no way to cross out something like that. The X is a diagram of two paths.
I am constantly torn between killing myself and killing everyone around me.
This is why we call people exes, I guess – because the paths that cross in the middle end up separating at the end. it’s too easy to see an X as a cross-out. it’s not, because there’s no way to cross out something like that. the X is a diagram of two paths.
That has to be what love is--seeing what a mess he is and loving him anyway, because you know you're a mess, too.
It hurts that I can be so full of him while he’s so empty of me.
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it.
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it.
Those mornings when we kiss and surrender for an hour before we say a single word.
Who came up with the term cheating, anyway? A cheater, I imagine. Someone who thought liar was too harsh. Someone who thought devastator was too emotional. The same person who thought, oops, he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Fuck you. This isn’t about slipping yourself an extra…
The mistake is thinking that there can be an antidote to the uncertainty.
It’s bullsh*t to think of friendship and romance as being different. They’re not. They’re just variations of the same love. Variations of the same desire to be close.
Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.
We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.
Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.
Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.
Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.
Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.
We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.