“I wanted to scream at him, but then I just felt sad again. He obviously hadn’t cared enough about me to truly let me into his life at all. He’d kept so much from me, and I kind of hated him for that.”

“No matter how much I want to scream at him and make him leave, I find myself wishing he could squeeze me just a little bit tighter. I want him to lock his arms around me and throw away the key, because this is where he belongs and I'm scared he'll just let me go again.”

“I loved him so much. It didn't change all the reasons we couldn't be together, but it kept me returning to his body, kept my skin seeking his skin over and over again in the sad dance we did.”

“He always kept me just on the edge of crazy. Feeling like I wanted him too much, which just made me want him more." "That sounds excruciating.”

“I wanted him to think about me as much as I thought about him. I wanted him to miss me when I wasn't around, like I missed him. I wanted him to want me like he'd never wanted anyone else, the way that I wanted him. I wanted for him to never be able to get enough of me, as I seemed not to be able to get enough of him.”

“As much as I hated to admit it, I kind of looked forward to seeing him. It made no sense, but something about his infuriating nature made me forget about my other worries. Weirdly, I felt like I could relax around him.”