A long flight. Jetlag. Immigration. Customs. And then finally, that first step into a new place, that moment of exhilaration and disorientation, each feeding the other. That moment when anything can happen
All night long if you want. We'll tell our secrets to the dark.
Really? Was that how you quit me?
I've become to realize there's a world of difference between knowing something happened, even knowing why it happened, and believing it.
But then Mason touches my neck, to the spot on it where the cut from that night has since healed, and I pull away. He was right, after all; it didn't leave a scar, though part of me wishes it had. At least I'd have some evidence, some justification of this permanence. Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.
Hate me. Devastate me. Annihilate me. Re-create me. Re-create me. Won't you, won't you won't you re-create me.
And the voice grows stronger and stronger, and it’s my voice this time and it’s asking a question: How does she know?
...no way through it but through it," I tell myself.
I'll be your mess,you be mine That was the deal that we had signed I bought a hazmat suit to clean up your waste Gas masks,gloves,to keep us safe But now i'm alone in an empty room Staring down immaculate doom "Messy
My stomach lurched, an appetizer before the full portion of heartache I had a feeling was going to be served at some point soon.
I want to ask him where that kitchen is. Where he's from. But he seems guarded. Or maybe it's me. Maybe making friends is a specific skill, and I missed the lesson.
I want to undo this. To make it right. But I have no idea how. I don't seem to know how to open up to people without getting the door slammed in my face. So I do nothing.
It's funny the things you think you're scared of until they're upon you, and then you're not.
Sarcasm creates a chasm between yourself and others.
I know that unlike that night, tonight I won't kiss her. Or touch her. Or even see her up close. Tonight, I'll listen. And that'll be enough.
It was just one day and it's been just one year. But maybe one day is enough. Maybe one hour is enough. Maybe time has nothing at all to do with it". Willem
That’s the thing you never expect about grieving, what a competition it is.
I’ve blamed her for all of this, for leaving, for ruining me. And maybe that was the seed of it, but from that one little seed grew this tumor of a flowering plant. And I’m the one who nurtures it. I water it. I care for it.I nibble from its poison berries. I let it wrap around my neck, choking the air right out of me. I’ve done that. All by myself. All to myself.
It was selfish what I asked her to do, even if it wound up being the most unselfish thing I've ever done.
I like French fries," I say. I like French fries? I sound like a slow child in a made-for-TV movie.
If I stay. If I live. It's up to me.
I know that all the magic kisses in the world probably couldn't have helped him today. But I would do anything to have been able to give him one.
In the middle of L.A.'s sunny non-winter, I need to sit in a dark closet to feel right.
Neither sleet nor rain nor a half inch of snow will compel me to dress like a lumberjack.
Adam lay perfectly still, little groans escaping from his lips. I looked at the bow, looked at my hands, looked at Adam's face and felt this surge of love, lust, and an unfamiliar feeling of power.
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