“She can't just be a face, a body; there has to be more than that, some kind of connection. And I can't connect, don't want to connect, with anyone.”

“I want to tell her that I can't pull her down. I want to tell her that she has to let go of my hand in order to swim. I want to tell her that she must live her own life. But I sense she already knows that these options are open to her. And that she, too, has made her choice.”

“I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?”

“If I keep breathing, then I have to keep living, and if I keep living, then I have to keep hurting, and I can't - not like this.”

“But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.”

“Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.”

“I feel like I'm going crazy: seeing you every day but never being able to - to hold you, to touch you when anyone else is around. i just want to take your hand, kiss you, hug you, without having to hide all the time. All those things every other couple takes for granted!”