“I wanted you to feel the rage boil in my blood when I found out you were going on a date...with him tonight," he cursed the word, "after being with me last night. I wanted you to feel the same pain I did. The goddamn same debilitating pain.”

“I said those things and did those things because you'd hurt me," he continued, whispering just outside my ear. "And I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to feel the same way I did when I woke up and found you gone. I wanted you to feel the anxiety I felt when I tried calling you and you wouldn't answer. I wanted you to feel the anger I felt when I showed up at the diner and watched you through the windows for a few minutes. Serving and talking to guests like it was just another day. Like you hadn't just broken my heart.”

“When it comes to love, I realize that I am masochistic. They might consider me crazy for loving you despite everything that we have been through. You may not be worth the pain, but if it’s from you, I really don’t mind the devastation. I don’t want to ever let you go. I may deserve better than you, but you’re just the same, aren’t you? You are me. There is no difference. Tomorrow I will feel the same as I did the day before. You are the only one I could love this way, and that’s not something I ever want to give up.”

“I gestured at my litre of fizzy red wine. “Want a drop of this?” I asked him.No thanks. I try not to drink at lunchtime.”So do I. But I never quite make it.”I feel like shit all day if I drink at lunchtime.”Me too. But I feel like shit all lunchtime if I don’t.”Yes, well it all comes down to choices, doesn’t it?” he said. “It’s the same in the evenings. Do you want to feel good at night or do you want to feel good in the morning? It’s the same with life. Do you want to feel good young or do you want to feel good old? One or the other, not both.”Isn’t it a tragedy?”

“Laura looked up at him with dead blue eyes. I want to be alive again," she said. "Not in this half-life. I want to be really alive. I want to feel my heart pumping in my chest again. I want to feel blood moving through me — hot, and salty, and real. It's weird, you don't think you can feel it, the blood, but believe me, when it stops flowing, you'll know." She rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with red from the mess on her hands. Look, it's hard. You know why dead people only go out at night, puppy? Because it's easier to pass for real, in the dark. And I don't want to have to pass. I want to be alive.”

“While they argued, the pain blazed on. My blood boiled in my veins. Why was I doing this? Was he worth all of this pain? Why should I care if he lived or died?"I love him." The words came out as a whisper, but they seemed to diminish the heat. I felt stronger and more sure of myself.”