If I keep breathing, then I have to keep living, and if I keep living, then I have to keep hurting, and I can't - not like this.

I've never seen anyone sleep with their head hanging off the back of a wooden chair before - was the couch not comfortable enough for you?

I want to tell her that I can't pull her down. I want to tell her that she has to let go of my hand in order to swim. I want to tell her that she must live her own life. But I sense she already knows that these options are open to her. And that she, too, has made her choice.

Anyway, what does mad mean exactly?" Rami added quickly "Aren't we all a little mad? Don't we have to be somehat mad just to go on living, to go on hoping?

Trying to describe my life and feelings to you is like trying to describe coulours to the blind, or music to the deaf. It's simply not possible.

And this is something I must accept - even if, like acid on metal, it is slowly corroding me inside.

Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.