“I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.”

“I wish I could think of a way to show them that they don't own me. If I'm going to die, I still want to be me.”

“Wishing he'd...get the hell out the door before I do something crazy like ask him to whip out his goober.”

“I wished I could have made him stay, to explain that I wanted things between us to be good, not so that he'd defend me better but, if I can put it this way, good in a natural way. Mostly, I could tell, I made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't understand me, and he was sort of holding it against me. I felt the urge to reassure him that I was like everybody else, just like everybody else. But really there wasn't much point, and I gave up the idea out of laziness.”

“Dad," I said hesitantly, "I wish you could be there for me even when I'm doing the wrong thing. I wish you could love me even when I'm screwing up.”

“I once locked my keys out of my car. I had to break out of my car with a coat hanger.”