But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.

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?

The words fire from my mouth like bullets, ricocheting off the walls before I can even register what I'm saying.

But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.

Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.

How-how can we make it against the whole world?

Before there was anything, there was Lochan.