My boyfriend's an idiot," I say as soon as he lurches away."A cute idiot," Ally corrects me."That's like saying 'a cute mutant.' Doesn't exist.

That's all I want. Just you and me. Always.

Then I think of the dark, and the lights, and the roaring, and Juliet, and before I can think of anything else, I fight the final few steps to the door and step out into the cold, where the rain is still coming down like shards of moonlight, or like steel.

This is what amazes me: that people are new every day. That they are never the same. You must always invent them, and they must always invent themselves, too.

At the same time I know that it’s not really their fault, at least not completely. I did my part too. I did it on a hundred different days and in a thousand different ways, and I know it. But this makes the anger worse, not better.

We wanted the freedom to love. We wanted the freedom to choose. Now we have to fight for it.

Things change after you die, though, I guess because dying is the loneliest thing you can do.