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Mental note: don’t drink straight scotch ever again. Hardened criminals don’t even drink that shit.
His face—oh God, his face. Words cannot describe how beautiful his face is when he comes.
Unfucking believable. You have the emotional intelligence of a fish.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. I stuff my mouth full of food so I can’t speak. I need to be muzzled.
I’m like a drug addict on the precipice of a high, and I need the hit.
I’m sure if I looked in a mirror right now the whites of my eyes would be red. I’m like the exorcist before a kill.
“I choose to be how I want to be.” I bump my shoulder with hers. “I don’t care what people think. You need to choose how you want to be and forget what everyone else says or thinks about it.” She listens intently. “Because the people who matter will love you however you are.”
He was right. We are on different paths. Love just isn’t enough. I can’t change what I want and he can’t change what he doesn’t want. This is never going to work.
They say everything has a reason, a lesson to learn. Haven’t I had enough fucking lessons?
My body is working, keeping me alive, but my heart has completely stopped.
