I'm trying to focus, telling myself these are just empty words, but I'm lying. Because somehow, just reading these words is too much; and the thought of her in pain is causing me an unbearable amount of agony.

But watching her talk to someone else made me crazy. I was jealous. Ridiculous. I wanted her to know me; I wanted her to talk to me. And I felt it then: this strange, inexplicable sense that she might be the only person in the world I could really care about.

She is scared and broken, yes. But she is also angrey--and stunningly beautiful. I'm certain I've never seen such a beautiful creature in my life.

How did I allow myself to imagine that a supernatural ability to kill things with my skin would suddenly grant me a comprehensive understanding of political science?

The darkness is like a black canvas punctured by a blunt knife, with beams of light peeking through.

And then he’s up up and away and I’m counting on one hand the number of men I’ve killed and marveling at how little it’s done to help me hold it together in Warner’s presence.

Sometimes I wonder if the planets are still up there, still aligned, still managing to get along after all this time. Maybe we could learn a thing or two from them.

I love you, ” he says , his words harsh and soft all at once. “ I love you and it isn’t enough . I thought it would be enough and I was wrong. I thought I could fight for you and I was wrong. Because I can’t . I can’t even face you anymore — ” “ Aaron — ” “ Tell me it isn’t true , ” he says. “ Tell me I’m wrong . Tell me I’m blind. Tell me you love me.

I want to trust.But I get scared sometimes.