“you were like an ulcer on the inside of my cheek that my tongue could not stop touching.loving you was like watching a stranger clean a week old wound; i felt sick, but i wanted more.”

“No, you were certainly not trying to seduce me, more like trying to wound my ego, break my heart, I dunno. Did you like how you felt when you walked away? Do you prefer that emotion to this?”

“I watched you wake up and try to wake me up too. I could still feel you touch my face and my cheek. I liked the way you brushed my hair back with your hand. I liked the way held onto my hands with your hands. They must have felt a little cold and a little wet but they started to feel warm again when you held onto them. I want you to know that I stayed there with you and held onto you too.”

“You make this sound like a chore for you, like a job. This...," he pressed his fingers to my heart, "it's about love for me--undying, unwavering, unrelenting love. A love that won't let me move on, it won't let me get over you. I don't want to focus on the sickness that could replace you in my heart. I don't want to think of what will happen if I stop fighting for you, for us. But, sometimes I feel like I'm alone in this fight.”

“when we were strangers, I liked you from afarwhen we were lovers, I loved you with all my heart”

“Most nights I lay on my futon I was sick with anxiety, and felt a pit inside myself as big and empty as if the world were nothing more than giant hall empty of people.”