“I’m really cracking. No, I’m beyond cracking. I’m shattered. I’m lost. I’m fragmented.”

“When I’m with him, everything makes so much sense…when I’m away, it’s so much shit.”

“I pretend I’ve got lots of confidence and I’m a big jock and like that but deep inside I’m a frightened, insecure, can’t-make-it failure.”

“Like usual, what I want is not important, what I’m supposed to do that counts.”

“…I’d have died without them [books]. Even now I’m not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I’ve gotten from books.”

“They don’t think “I care,” “I hurt,” or “I have feelings.” It just seems like I’m always “wrong,” always “selfish,” always “self-centered” and everything else that’s negative and destructive.”

“I really am only one infinitely small part of an aching humanity.”