“I said I hated life. You said you hated life. We decided to hate it together.”

“I hate the way you talk to meAnd the way you cut your hairI hate the way you drive my carI hate it when you stareI hate your big dumb combat bootsAnd the way you read my mindI hate you so much, that it makes me sickAnd even makes me rhymeI hate the way you're always rightI hate it when you lieI hate it when you make me laughEven worse when you make me cryI hate it when you not aroundAnd the fact that you didn't callBut mostly I hate the way I don't hate youNot even closeNot even a little bitNot even at all”

“If I lose it now, I will lose you, too. I know that. I hate it.”

“composure, n.You told me anyway, even though I didn’t want to know. A stupid drunken fling while you were visiting Toby in Austin. Months ago. And the thing I hate the most is knowing how much hinges on my reaction, how your unburdening can only lead to me being burdened. If I lose it now, I will lose you, too. I know that. I hate it.You wait for my response.”

“I want you to spend the night,” you said. And it was definitely your phrasing that ensured it. If you had said, “Let’s have sex,” or “Let’s go to my place,” or even “I really want you,” I’m not sure we would have gone quite as far as we did. But I loved the notion that the night was mine to spend, and I immediately decided to spend it with you.”

“Without you I wouldn't have been able to contain the hate. I would have used it against myself. You're the one who helped me control it. My mind spun out to other things.But it always came back to you.”

“There are times I think of us all and I wish we were back in second grade. Not really that young. But I wish it felt like second grade. I’m not saying everyone was friends back then. But we all got along. There were groups, but they didn’t really divide. At the end of the day, your class was your class, and you felt like you were a part of it. You had your friends and you had the other kids, but you didn’t really hate anyone longer than a couple of hours. Everybody got a birthday card. In second grade, we were all in it together. Now we’re all apart.”