“Being myself is the one thing that people would want to see out of me, they don't want to see me being the fake person that the world wants me to be, all they want to see is the real me, the real person that is inside of me.”

“I just wanted one person who would look at me and not want to see someone else.”“Who looks at you like that?” I lift my head up and lower my hands so I can see her face, and I can’t imagine anyone looking at this girl and wanting to see anything but her.“Everyone who loves me.”“Who is it they want to see?“A dead girl.”

“I don't want you to see only a tiger when you look at me. I want you to see me. The man.”

“The real question is, can you love the real me? Not the perfect person you want me to be, not that image you had of me, but who I really am.”

“Being in love is…anxious,” he said. “Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is…you’re naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all…I wanted her to see me and to love me even though she knew everything I am, and I knew her”

“Me: "If you want me to be a teenager, don't send me to Support Group. Buy me a fake ID so I can go to clubs, drink vodka, and take pot."Mom: "You don't take pot, for starters."Me: "See, that's the kind of thing I'd know if you got me a fake ID.”