“I loved Alex so much that it was easier to let him hurt me than to watch him hurt himself.”

“That’s why it was so impossible to tell him goodbye — because I was in love with him. Too. I loved him, much more than I should, and yet, still nowhere near enough. I was in love with him, but it was not enough to change anything; it was only enough to hurt us both more. To hurt him worse than I ever had.”

“There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.”

“Damn him. I could love. I had it all inside of me. If he knew so much about me, why couldn't he see that? If I didn't love him, how could it hurt so badly?”

“And it was easier to let him keep on touching me than ask him to stop, easier to let him inside than to push him away, easier than hearing him ask me, "Why not?" It was easier to keep quiet and take it than to give him an answer.”

“It hurts, so much, to love. To love people only to watch them suffer.”