Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have.

You've always been my best friend, my soul mate, and now I've fallen in love with you too. Why is that such a crime?

At what point does a fly give up trying to escape through a closed window – do its survival instincts keep it going until it is physically capable of no more, or does it eventually learn after one crash too many that there is no way out? At what point do you decide that enough is enough?

It's always nice being wanted. Even if it's by the wrong person.

I don't know when it started - this thing - bit it's growing, muffling me, suffocating me like poison ivy. I grew into it. It grew into me. We blurred at the edges, became an amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.

Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have.

Get through today – you can fall apart tomorrow. Get through tomorrow, you can fall apart the day after . . .