Let me tell you what you feel like when you know you are ready to die.
You sleep a lot, and when you wake up the very first thought in your head is that you wish you could go back to bed.
You go entire days without eating, because food is a commodity that keeps you here.
You read the same page a hundred times.
You rewind your life like a videocassette and see the things that make you weep, things that make you pause, but nothing that makes you want to play it forward.
You forget to comb your hair, to shower, to dress.
And then one day, when you make the decision that you have enough energy left in you to do this one, last, monumental thing, there comes a peace. Suddenly you are counting moments as you haven’t for months. Suddenly you have a secret that makes you smile, that makes people say you look wonderful, although you feel like a shell-brittle and capable of cracking into a thousand pieces.

I think you can love a person too much.

You put someone up on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what's wrong - a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don't even realize what you look like, how far you've deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else.

She was all the things I wasn't. And i was all the things she wasn't. she could paint circles around anyone; I couldn't even draw a straight line. She was never into sports; I've always been. Her hand, it fit mine.