Long week. Long month. Long life.
And then I screwed up and the Colonel screwed up and Takumi screwed up and she slipped through our fingers.
If by that you mean that I dislike celebrity magazines, prefer food to anorexia, refuse to watch TV shows about models, and hate the color pink, then yes. I am proud to be not really a girl.
... she called it a paper town. Like, you know, everything so fake and flimsy.
She was not an adventure, she was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.
I kept it for myself like a keepsake, as if sharing the memory might lead to its dissipation.