Why doesn't love come with an owner's manual?

Even without them touching me, I feel dirty about what I do. Alex does even filthier things but says it all washes off with soap. I don’t believe that. I think it all leaves stains. Indelible stains.

Can a dream be wrong? Aren't dreams God's way of telling you things?

I'll Stay ...leave ...me. ...I'll ...follow ...you.

Fear is a better friend than you, who feel nothing, beneath the weight of my pain.

Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing.

I don't need more pain in my life. Why did I invite it in? Do I have to feel pain to believe I feel anything at all?