Caroline Kepnes

You are a monster, deathly, solipsistic to the bone and you__e blasphemous because all you want is You

I don't feel sorry for myself, Beck. Lots of people have shitty parents and roaches in the cabinets and stale, raw Pop-Tarts for dinner and a TV that barely works and a dad who doesn't care when his son doesn't come home during a national disaster. The thing is, I'm lucky. I had the bookstore.

The problem with books is that they end. They seduce you.[_]You turn the page and there is nothing.

I fold my hands under my head and tell the books all about you. They listen, Beck. I know it sounds crazy, but they do.

In the cage, you feel loved, not trapped. Just like me.

It's amazing how good fifty and sunny feels after you've been bleeding in twelve with a windchill of go fuck yourself.

... and Lynn is dead inside, like a corpse. She Instagrams methodically, clinically, as if she's gathering evidence for defense, like her entire life is dedicated to proving that she has a life.

we__e too old to be young.

If we were teenagers, I could kiss you. But I__ on a platform behind a counter wearing a name tag and we__e too old to be young.