“What will you do with them?" "Redo them in charcoal, probably." "And then?" "Tack them to my bedroom wall." Bedroom wall? "Who wouldn't want to wake up to this?”

“Lucas: I wanted to talk to you after class, but you disappeared.Me: I have another class right after. One of those profs who stops talking, stares at you and waits until you get to your seat if you're late.Lucas: I would probably just walk to my seat even slower. ;)”

“But the scars are always there, waiting for something to poke them.”

“Say stop, whenever you want to stop. Understand?" I nodded. "Do you want to stop now?" My head moved back and forth to the pillow. "Thank God.”

“But even if you have what everyone else wants- if it isn't what you want, it isn't what you want”

“Something about first love defies duplication. Before it, your heart is blank. Unwritten. After, the walls are left inscribed and graffitied. When it ends, no amount of scrubbing will purge the scrawled oaths and sketched images, but sooner or later, you find that there’s space for someone else, between the words and in the margins.”

“I've started researching online journals for the project. Thanks for decoding Dr. Heller's notes before sending them to me. If you'd have forwarded them to me without a translation, I'd be searching for a tall building/overpass/water tower from which to yell "goodbye cruel world.”