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“I have to go.” “Why?” “Because you have to keep shooting those fish in barrels.” I shrug. “And I have to swim upstream.”
Chalk and cheese. We couldn’t be more different.
“Some things you cannot choose. They choose you.”
Come on, fucker . . . try me . . . I’m in the mood to sort you right out.
“Not wanting control and not having control are two different things.”
Oh crap. I totally do look like his fix-up-a-hooker project.
minute by minute I’m watching my hopes and dreams slowly drip down the drain.
I’m sad to my bones . . . I can’t shake it, no matter how hard I try. I feel the loss of my life. Of who I was. The life I had. I miss me.
I know I have to snap myself out of this, but how do you turn off your heart? Is there a switch? Tell me, because I need to find it.
I’m suffering the slowest, most painful kind of fate.
There’s a magic swirling between us when we speak now. Deeper than sex, more special than love.
