She can't just be a face, a body; there has to be more than that, some kind of connection. And I can't connect, don't want to connect, with anyone.

Lochie. The boy I once loved. The boy I still love. The boy I will continue to love, even when my part in this world is over too.

He will think Lochan wasn't loved, but he was, more deeply than most people are in a lifetime.

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.

But then why is it so terrible for me to be with the girl I love? Everyone one is permitted to have what they want, express their love as they please, without fear of harassment, ostracism, persecution, or even the law. Even emotionally abusive, adulterous relationships are often tolerated, despite the harm they cause others. In our progressive, permissive society, all these harmful, unhealthy types of "love" are allowed--but not ours.

If I move, if I speak, if I so much as blink, I'm going to lose this battle.

And I know how he feels–it’s so good it hurts.