Planning is not my friend. Impulse is.

I can't seem to keep my heart from leaking out of the cracks, like sand clutched in a fist.

I am the ocean we lived on for two months. I am empty. I am nothing.

Lend and I certainly didn't start off on the right foot"-only Raquel would refer to Lend punching her and then us imprisoning him in an IPCA cell and interrogating him as being the "wrong foot"- "but he's always been good to you,and I have no doubt you two will be able to work this out.

I could have kisses like that for the rest of my life. Kisses that don't know who I am. Kisses that make me feel more and less than what I am. But my finger tap tap taps on my leg and reminds me that I am not who Adam thinks I am, and it makes me want to cry. It's not that I don't deserve his kiss. It's that the person I am can never really share a life, a soul, with the person he is.

In this room I have picked which gun was unloaded out of ten options. And then they pulled the trigger on me. I have picked stocks that went on to skyrocket. I have picked which pencil I would shove into Ms. Robertson’s ear until she kicked me out for thinking about it.

If he wakes up, I swear I’ll do anything. I’ll open gates, I’ll help all the paranormals, I’ll never judge people wearing Crocs again. Just let him wake up. Please.