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?

You cannot undo the past; you can only learn to live with it, find some way of making peace with it, and move on.

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

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.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

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

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?