ya

Have you thought of doing it? Being a cattle farmer? If that's what it's called? I think we should do that, but replace cattle with bunnies and then we don't milk or eat the bunnies. We just let them multiply. Then we'll take over the world. Me the queen. You the king. Our bunnies the army nobody can defeat.

That's the thing about distance: It either gives you time to move on form someone, or it makes you realize just how much you need them.

Dark haired guys are so, so much better.

From my bedroom window, I can see the sun peeping through the clouds. London certainly isn't a city noted for its climate, but I think, sooner or later, you get used to it, and live with the weather. For most of the year, everyone and everything seems to be tucked up cosily in grey cotton wool, but Dickens said that fog is a characteristic of London, didn't he? This climate could go hand in hand with my dismal humour.

Funny story. A bunch of people -- the cult -- blame the appearance of abilities on the invention of the internet.

Perhaps death is just a big lie.

You've got nothing to be worried about," he whispers slowly, his breath hot against my cheek, "because, baby, I'm all yours.

You're such a dork.But I'm your dork.

Who am I kidding? This isn__ a fairy tale. It__ my life.

Courage does not take over, it fights and struggles through every word you say and every step you take. It's a battle or a dance as to whether you let it pervade. It takes courage to overcome, but it takes extreme fear to be courageous.

It__ only a scratch, don__ cut my arm off!

I'm serious, Mar, I don't know how to act around him now. I can't be nice, because he'll hate that. But I can't be mean just to be nice.""You really need medication.""I'm in a quandary. A Catch-22. I'm screwed.

Maybe I'm crying because I'm terrified that he's come here to do more damage, to reactivate what I feel only to let me down easy again, missionary style.

We're only three class sessions in and I'm already behind? And to hear it from him? This buttoned-up Bible-thumper I can't get out of my head?

I am a monster beneath him, with arching hips, an octopus with hands everywhere at once. I don't think anything in the history of time has felt this good.

Everything feels yes.

I can't read him. I can't grasp him. I have no idea what he's thinking and if he's messing with me or if he really is this good, but never before have I wanted so fiercely to learn forward and put my mouth on someone's neck, begging them to want me.

High school is such an incestuous little pool.