I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don't find funny, saying things I don't really mean - because at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we're all the same.

As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.

Puedes cerrar los ojos a las cosas que no quieres ver, pero no puedes cerrar tu corazón a las cosas que no quieres sentir.

Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.

Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.

At the end of the day it's about how much you can bear, how much you can endure. Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves.