“Where's the fun in fucking if the fucker can't slam the fuckee into a wall or two?”

“Don’t you think I’m just as fucked up as you are? I might even be worse.” He pulls me closer and tightens his grip around me. “All I know is that you, Hadlee Flax, are different than any other girl I’ve ever met and I’m willing to give this my all. Yes, we’ve both got issues. We’re both mentally and emotionally fucked up. But I’ve got this theory that we just might be what each other needs to make it through our broken and fucked up lives and live to see the next day.”

“Hello, dinner. It’s me, I’m starving. And I know where you live.”

“They told me the drugs would take away the pain. They told me the drugs would help me sleep.They are wrong. The pain of losing Damien hasn't gone away. And I hardly ever sleep.There's a part of me that wishes I could close my eyes and shut out the world, but I can't. I can't because I know behind my eyelids, I'll see him. He'll be there looking so fresh and alive. His skin will be vibrant with color, his blue blue eyes sparkling. He'll flash me his radiant smile and for a few minutes, I'll actually believe that he didn't die. I'll believe it and then I wake up to discover that my mind is torturing me with what could have been and I lose control of my emotions.I scream.Sob.Hug my knees to my chest.Rock back and forth.Tug at my hair.I pace the length of my shoebox room and throw myself into the padded white walls. I pray for someone or something to come along and take the pain away. I pray for someone or something to erase my memory so that I'll never have to think of Damien again. And so that I'll never have to live with the painful reminder that I am the reason he died.Damien died for me.And for love.And I'm not quite sure what else.Maybe to prove a point.”

“I have a moment where I finally realize that the aching heart, the longing, the grief, the insanity...I finally get it after all these month. That all those things combined are what letting go feels like.”

“Because just before I arrived, he showed up on the bus. He, meaning Damien.He reminded me of the pain I'd felt when he died. He reminded me of what it's like to feel your heart explode in your chest cavity at the realization of living your life without the only person you've ever loved. And he reminded me of the promise I'd made to him months ago. I told him that I'd love him forever.That I'd never let go.But part of me wants to let go.Deep down inside I know that I can't go on loving a ghost forever. I tell myself this every day. Then I see him and I forget about having those thoughts. Because when I do see him, he looks like the Damien I met on that humid summer day, who was smirking at me, and driving his candy apple red Cadillac in reverse. When I see him he looks so vivid.So full of life.Not so...so...So dead.”

“He mouths something. Six words. Six words that seem too impossible to be true. Six words that bleed hope into my soul. Six words. “You’re not crazy. I love you.”