Pretending is another way of lying, and I am so good at both.
I think happy thoughts and feel happy things and I do not let myself near the swirling black edges of the hole that is my soul when I look at them.
My bed is massive (I drown in it, and it doesn’t matter how big the bed is, my nightmares more than fill it)
I am a girl in want of complete destruction.
I don’t want to think about things like normal and safe, things I can’t have.
I wash myself clean of guilt, of pain, of fear, of emotion. I am the ocean. I am empty. I am nothing.
I am so filled with wrong I don’t remember what right is.
I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.
You’re crazy,” he hisses. “Too true.
Crazy must run in your family,” he says.“You do know Fia!” I blurt, then bite my lip.
I have to trust that, or I’ll lose my mind. Well, lose it more.
Cole gets up and then says, “Adam. Five texts. I can read them to you.” He pauses. “Unless they’re personal.” I roll my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m pretty sure he’s desperately...
Everyone here is insane. I am the insanest of the insane.
Probably you should stay out of my head. It’s not a friendly place.
I’m still afraid to sleep—too many ghosts peering creeping condemning.
Silly. Dark isn’t scary. Dark is safe.”“Why?” “I live in the dark all the time. But when it’s dark outside everyone has to be there, too. And if you can’t see someone, they can’t see you, either.” She...
James is all I have. I chose James. He has to be right. Please let him be right.
I chose him. If I chose him, he had to be the right choice. I wouldn’t love him if it weren’t right.
I lie constantly. All the time. I’m nothing but one big mass of lies.
It’s a lie, but it’s the lie he needs. I’m going to hell.
