“It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.”

“I'd dressed up and hoped and I was so tired of doing that, so tired of dreaming and being unable to stop it despite the fact that I'd seen, maybe better than anyone here, what dreams could do to you.”

“I heard how people sounded when their dreams were shattered, when their lives were turned into a waking nightmare.”

“I felt nothing all the time, and it had started to feel normal. It should have scared me, but it didn't.”

“Friends. Strange indeed. There's just so much at risk, including my heart and mental stability - which are both still extremely fragile. I'm getting better but my heart still aches for you. I'm also having a hard time dealing with the fear. I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want to cry, worry, or be scared anymore. I just wish I could feel free and happy again. If I can't talk to you at all, it's unbearable. If I talk to you too much, it's unbearable. It doesn't leave much. I want us both to be happy. I just want everything to be okay for you and me. I don't want anyone else to hurt. I feel like I've hurt enough for everyone. I've cried enough tears to fill everyone's bucket.”

“How can I remember a world that isn't mine? One that isn't the one I wake up in every day now?”

“Something in me, in my bruised heart, wakes up, and even though I'm terrified, I don't push the feeling away.”