“I can’t stop loving you. If I do that, what will be left of me?”

“Can I tell you what I want? I want to stop wanting things I can’t have. I want to stop falling for jerks I don’t need. And I want to stop feeling like an f/ing gooey butter cake somebody left out in the rain.”

“I can’t stop thinking about doing this to you,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Tell me to stop now if you don’t want this. If you don’t want me.”

“I love you in–in every kind of way.’‘I feel like that too . . .’ His voice is shocked and raw. ‘It’s – it’s a feeling so big I sometimes think it’s going to swalow me. It’s so strong I feel it could kil me. It keeps growing and I can’t – I don’t know what to do to stop it. But – but we’re not supposed to do this – to love each other like this!”

“What good is everything Chris gave me if I can’t stop the monsters?”

“Tell me which you could sooner do without, love or water.”“What do you mean?”“I mean, could you live without love, or could you live without water?”“Why can’t I have both?”