Because no one can be trusted.

No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.

Our eyes met across the crowded room, like in the movies, except we didn't share a knowing smile and race into each other's arms. Instead I fell into the trash can.

Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.

At times like this, I'm thankful I don't feel love.

Never question the sanity of a woman who can render you defenseless with a look.

Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother.