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?

I am overcome by a feeling of complete detachment. I am a mere object to these people. I am barely human any more.

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.

As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.

Willa’s big blue eyes, Willa’s dimpled-cheeked smile. Tiffin’s shaggy blond mane, Tiffin’s cheeky grin. Kit’s yells of excitement, Kit’s glow of pride. Maya’s face, Maya’s kisses, Maya’s love. Maya, Maya, Maya . . .

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?

I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?