“I'm so acutely aware of everything about him in this moment that I'm almost positive I could pick his thumbprint out of a lineup.”

“He's looking so deeply into my eyes that I'm surprised I haven't buckled under the intensity and I realize then, right in this moment I realize that everything about him is intense. Nothing about him is manageable or easy to compartmentalize. He's too much. Everything about him is too much. His emotions, his actions, his anger, his aggression. His love.”

“I can't kill myself, I thought. I'm too insignificant. I'm nothing. I'm a thumbprint on the first-floor window of a skyscraper, a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea along with millions of tons of raw sewage, a squirrel eating a nut as a car bore down on him.”

“I could eat a unicorn and pick my teeth with his horn! I'm absolutely famished.”

“I almost tell him that I'd never be able to do something like that, just take out my instrument and begin playing on a street corner. But it feels to personal. Yes, I'm shy, but why bring it to his attention? I'm too shy to talk about how shy I am.”

“I'm proud of you, honey. This is a positive thing to have in your life. I'm glad to see you moving in the right direction.I wasn't aware I was going in the wrong direction.”