My memories of them had rubbed thin with overuse, worn to frail color transparencies flickering on the walls of my mind...

Being easily freaked out comes with its own special skill set: you develop subtle tricks to work around it, make sure people don't notice. Pretty soon, if you're a fast learner, you can get through the day looking almost exactly like a normal human being.

Some people are little Chernobyls, shimmering with silent, spreading poison: get anywhere near them and every breath you take will wreck you from the inside out.

I found out early that you can throw yourself away, missing what you've lost.

Everyone else we knew growing up is the same: image of their parents, no matter how loud they told themselves they'd be different

You start admiring someone who's famous for actually doing something---imagine that---and I swear to you I will buy you every item in her entire wardrobe. But over my own dead body will I spend my own time and money turning you into a clone of some brain-dead waste of skin who thinks the pinnacle of achievement is selling her wedding shots to a magazine.

I am not good at noticing when I'm happy, except in retrospect.