Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment.

In a time of destruction, create something.

I'm saying that I'm a moody, insecure, narrow-minded, jealous, borderline homicidal bitch, and I want you to promise me that you're okay with that, because it's who I am, and you're what I need.

The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.

Was it hard? I ask. Letting go? Not as hard as holding on to something that wasn't real.