And then it was the kind of dark your eyes never adjust to.
Breaking up isn't something that gets done to you; its something that happens with you.
I didn’t need you, you idiot. I picked you. And then you picked me back.
I have never really thought of him as a person, either.... A guy whose strings were broken, who didn’t feel the root of his leaves of grass connected to the field, a guy who was cracked. Like me.
And he was feeling not-unique in the very best possible way.
I always had this secret suspicion that I was special.