This is that one Hemingway quote.

I am a mess of lines strung together and knotted like the threads in that sweater you can't bear to give away.
You are the hopelessness I cling to, the wavering promise of "something" that eats away at me from time to time — sometimes you are also the reason I write.
So here's to the night,
To the mayhem and confusion of falling recklessly in love with life,
and the feeling of cigarette smoke wrapping around you like a blanket —
yes, sometimes we romanticize things that are bad for us.

This world is hope,
this world is brimming with uncertainty, failure,
and an undeniable good that makes all of us:
enjoy romantic comedies
laugh at our failures
save one another when we can't save ourselves —
I believe this comes from bigger things.

We are all so much smaller than we think,
and so much more than we will ever recognize.
Thankful for this Friday evening,
thankful for the night.

Here's to us.