This is going to sound a little strange, but I’d like you to paint over my old closet door. The thing is, there is never a time when you will be more honest, when your convictions will be stronger or when your motives will be more pure then they are right now. Which means you should chase everything that excites you. Be confident and take risks. And paint over my words so you can start writing your own. My story may have inspired you but your story will inspire the next girl to live in our room. I want you to know that you don’t need somebody to write about you in order for your life to mean something. You can write about yourself, make your own destiny. Then years from now, the next girl will keep what you write on that door long enough to remind you how inspired your life is. And you can tell that girl to paint over the door because you realize the words you wrote, the friends you had, the urgency you felt will always be there underneath the paint. The love you professed will always be there. The spark of something undeniable. A seed of hope. The truth. For better or worse, burning fiercely just below the surface.

You know, despite all my world-weariness and cynicism, I think I've always believed that there is one person in the universe who you're truly meant for - for whom you are truly meant - and the fact that sometimes there are two or even more people on earth you can fall in love with really bothers me. It suggests that if you can work hard you can be meant for anyone. Maybe that's a more comforting notion.