Hidden Bodies (You #2)

by Caroline Kepnes

Everything can wait when you have love in your life.

We are your worst nightmare. We are happy. We don’t need you, any of you. We don’t give a fuck about you, what you think of us, what you did to us. I am the driver and Amy is the dream girl and this is our first vacation together. Finally. I have love.

I am not unique; to be alive is to have a mug of urine out there.

I want the world clean for us, Lysol fresh.

Love fucks with your vision and I have no hate in my heart.

there is nothing more terrifying than realizing that the one who knows you best loves you least, pities you even.

“Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles.” “Frank Lloyd Wright said that.”

There is a pool—I could hold Amy under the water—and there is a hot tub—I could boil the bitch—and there is a game room—I can choke her with a pool stick—and it’s within walking distance of everything I could ever want.

People are so lonely, they spend their birthdays on the Internet, thanking people for wishing them a happy birthday, people who only know it’s their birthday because Facebook told them.

I wonder when the wondering will stop. I hate this part of the split, when that girl just lives in your head.

I need someone like this on my team, someone fluent in California ’90s moron douchebag language

The girl at the register winked and said she’s also a big fan of Fifty Shades and this is what has become of our society. Fucking and killing are the same damn thing.

Every woman in this place yells something along the lines of I-will-fuck-you and if you want to see the opposite of feminism, go to a comedian’s house.

then I send an empty bubble from his Twitter account. His last word is silence. His final Tweet blows up, with people retweeting and favoriting it even though it means nothing. I get it. His silence is an invitation for others to project their voices onto him. Overthinking cultural critics will elaborate on this tweet in Salon, in Slate. The man who never stopped tweeting sent an empty bubble minutes before he died. The symbolism! His tragic sex-death will move the masses and people will learn from him, and in this way he’s a lucky guy. If there’s a heaven, he’s probably going in spite of what he said about me.

Walking is mental. You sharpen your thoughts and process your emotions.

Nobody made shirts for CandaceBenjiPeachBeck. Those people don’t have fans. In trying to assassinate the invisible, elusive Amy, I have killed a celebrity. The others I killed faded away the way grandparents recede into the old photos or pets just disappear. A famous person never disintegrates from the collective consciousness. Henderson is on TV, on T-shirts.

Even this kid who just fucking moved here has that me me me disease and I let it go.

I don’t believe in love at first sight. But I do believe in electricity, the way it can recharge you. I am healing.

Love’s mouth is Soho House, velvet and marble, members only.

There’s honor in asking people questions. There’s honesty in it.

Love is all you need is Love

you can love someone all you want, but you can’t go into her past and become a part of her formative years.

You realize your intuition is stronger than science, truer than a molecule.

We are both on a journey and we are both in love and that’s all anyone can hope for in life.