“I could never pretend something I didn't feel. I could never make love if I didn't love, and if I loved I could no more hide the fact than change the color of my eyes.”

“I could write stories; I could hide from the world and make my own instead of trying to change it or live in it. I could make paper people and I would love them too; I could make them almost real.”

“He held me as if I were his most prized possession and I could feel every beat of his heart against me, as we embraced, lovingly. I felt safer and more loved than I had ever thought I could feel, and I never wanted it to end.”

“And I could go the rest of my life like this, don't get me wrong. This was reality and I'd certainly learned to adapt to that reality. I didn't love it, I'd never love it, but I lived with it pretty well.”

“I also knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I could never walk away. I needed him. I love him. More than I ever imagined I could love another person. And, apart from that love, nothing else mattered.”

“I didn't know," he whispered. "I didn't know I could love you so much.”