And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.

My former people were not totally wrong. Love is a kind of possession. It’s a poison. And if Alex no longer loves me, I can’t bear to think that he might love somebody else.

This is pretty much the answer to every problem you encounter in suburbia: plant a tree, and hope you don't see anyone's privates.

Be honest: Are you surprised that I didn't realize sooner? Are you surprised that it took me so long to even /think/ the word -- death? Dying? Dead? Do you think I was being stupid? Naive? Try not to judge. Remember that we're the same, you and me. I thought I would live forever too.

Grief is like sinking, like being buried.

I’ve been trying so hard not to think his name, not to even breathe the idea of him

For a moment, my heart aches for him. I should never have asked him to join me here; I should never have asked him to cross.