Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.

Take it as a token. Because tomorrow when I go, I want you to believe friends are possible.

I knew right then and there nothing was ever going to change. It wouldn't matter if I was tall or short or fat or thin or absent every day. I was a loser from birth.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

But you'd sell your soul for it, wouldn't you? For one day of feeling beautiful.

Oh sure. Because we always talk about deep down stuff.

But she never just accepted me for the way I was.