"This is a woman you've known less than twelve hours. It took you a year to pick out a couch, but you're seriously—" “Yes,” Roger said. “She's the one."

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What can we do?" Mom asked again. I shrugged. But she kept asking, as if there were something she could do, until I just kind of crawled across the couch into her lap and my dad came over and held my legs really tight and I wrapped my arms all the way around my mom's middle and they held on to me for hours while the tide rolled in.

— John Green