“It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of better and worse. It's simply a matter of is and is no longer.”

“there was a time before youbut I can't remember it nowa time before your beauty and Iwere formally introducedI'm sure I lived without youbut I don't remember howcan't imagine living withoutthese feelings you've producedjust once glanceand my life was redrawnjust one wordand my vocabulary changedI asked the timeand you said what's the hurry?you asked my nameand I almost forgot”

“No, It does. And if I left, you’d probably want to give me my jacket back. And if you did, I wouldn’t be able to put it on, because the whole time I’d be knowing how perfectly it fit on you. How even though the sleeves are ridiculously too long and the collar is all fucked up and for all I know some guy named Salvatore is going to come in this very club and say, ‘Hey, that’s my jacket’ and strike up a conversation and sweep you off your feet away from me- even though all those things are true or possibly true, I just can’t ruin the image of you sitting there across from me wearing my jacket better than I, or anyone else could. If I don’t owe it to you, and I don’t owe it to me, I at least owe it Salvatore.”

“I remembered a time we were going through magazines. There was this one model who looked icy to the touch, in total control. I told you that, andyou said, “That’s what makes it a good photograph. You think you know what’s going on in her head. But the truth? No matter how good aphotograph is, you can never tell what’s going on in the person’s mind. There’s no way to get from here” (you pointed to the room) “to there” (youpointed to her head).”

“But I want to feel like life matters. Ihad something real with you, but then the realness scared me. I decided to go for other things instead.”

“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”

“There are times when I'm alone and I think, This is it. This is actually the natural state. All I need are my thoughts and my small acts of creation and my ability to go or do whatever I want to go or do. I am myself, and that is the point. Pairing is a social construction. It is by no means necessary for everyone to do it. Maybe I'm better like this. Maybe I could live my life in my own world, and then simply leave it when it's time to go.”