Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.

Everyone is special in their own way.

I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with someone even if they could have. I need to know these people exist.

I couldn't believe Sam actually got me a present because i honestly thought the "I love you" was it.

Part of the reason I wrote the book was I wanted to understand for myself why such good people let themselves get treated so badly.

And when she started becoming a “young lady,” and no one was allowed to look at her because she thought she was fat. And how she really wasn’t fat. And how she was actually very pretty. And how different her face looked when she realized boys thought she was pretty. And how different her face looked the first time she really liked a boy who was not on a poster on her wall. And how her face looked when she realized she was in love with that boy. I wondered how her face would look when she came out from behind those doors.

I know that things get worse before they get better because that’s what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big.