That phrase was everywhere, from henna tattoos to all those “hipster” artsy photos. But to me, those words always meant something more. In the book, the phrase actually comes out of a larger paragraph, which reads:

“When we got out of the tunnel, Sam screamed this really fun scream, and there it was. Downtown. Lights on buildings and everything that makes you wonder. Sam sat down and started laughing. Patrick started laughing. I started laughing.

And in that moment, I swear, we were infinite.”

Anyone from Pittsburgh knows this moment: the second you drive out from Fort Pitt Tunnel and see the city unfold before you, the downtown lights reflecting on the three rivers like moonlight. Maybe there’s a Pirates game going on: you can see the game playing on the big screen, as PNC Park becomes a mixture of blinding blue and white lights. Maybe the Steelers are playing, and you see the sea of Terrible Towels, no matter how far away you are.

I’ve always loved that moment, that moment when you know you’re driving into a city that bleeds black and gold. Chbosky’s words captures everything so perfectly; he understands that intense, fleeting moment of happiness you get in those split seconds. Until I moved to Pittsburgh, I’d never actually stayed long enough in any city for it to feel like a home.

That “infinite” moment turned into a tradition: any time I’d see the skyline outlined against the night sky, my friends and I would turn to each other and say, “Do you feel infinite?” We’d say that during our nights out downtown, or when we used to go to King’s after each high school football game, coincidentally, just like the movie.

I understand why Christina Perri drove eight hours just to drive through that tunnel, to see exactly what the book was describing. I know why she felt the need to tell an entire crowd of fans who came out to see her perform, why she felt that this specific crowd would understand her love for the book and that moment.

I understand why, when I met Stephen Chbosky himself, he signed my book and told me, “you are infinite.”

Being “infinite” wasn’t about just driving through Fort Pitt tunnel; it’s about that feeling you get when you come home for the first time after a long time, slipping into your worn sheets of a bed you know so well. It’s that feeling when you make your mom smile unexpectedly, or when you and your friends can’t speak because you’re laughing so hard. It’s about those memories that you can’t help but smile when they cross your mind, or when you’re staring at lights on the water and they remind you of someone’s eyes. It’s when you realize that you too are endless: you have so many nights ahead of you, nights full of laughter and tears, nights that show you of your endless ability to love.

And just like Stephen Chbosky said to me, my friend, you are infinite.