As a writer, you live in such isolation. It's hard to imagine your book has a life beyond you.

she never showed girly weaknesses like cellulite or crushes. she never lingered on injustices committed against her.

I want to go where you're going. I'm not scared of dying. I want to stay together and come back together. You said that souls cohere. I want to stay with you.

She wasn’t sure if he wanted more from her or if he wanted less. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was always both.

The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth and tenderness of the air. The sun on her face made her want to cry. Into all those millions of open pores came the sunshine, and other feelings as well. In and out. She was porous.

This body is breaking down, but I am not.

Sometimes it is a relief to be invisible