It is an awful thing to be betrayed by your body. And it's lonely, because you feel you can't talk about it. You feel it's something between you and the body. You feel it's a battle you will never win . . . and yet you fight it day after day, and it wears you down. Even if you try to ignore it, the energy it takes to ignore it will exhaust you.

We hold hands as we walk through town. If anybody notices, nobody cares. I know we all like to think of the heart as the center of the body but at this moment, every conscious part of me is in the hand that he holds. It is through that hand, that feeling, that I experience everything else.

I should talk to him I know I should talk to him. But I do not talk to him. I watch after him from afar and love him.

...and suddenly you started singing out your love for me. My name and everything, loud enough to reach the top floors of all the buildings. I should have told you to stop, but I didn’t want you to stop. I didn’t mind if your love for me woke people up. I didn’t mind if it somehow sneaked into their sleep.

You know, I'd get a tattoo with your name on it. Only, I want you to have the freedom to change your name if you want to.

She is my first and only love. Most people know that their first love will not be their only love. But for me, she is both.

Part of growing up is making sure your sense of reality isn't entirely grounded in your own mind.