I am afraid of her, afraid of what she says-and thrilled by it too, because it means I don't have to accept that I am smaller than I once believed.

All I want is to become someone new. In this case, Tobias Johnson, son of Evelyn Johnson. Tobias Johnson may have lived a dull and empty life, but he is at least a whole person, not this fragment of a person that I am, too damaged by pain to become anything useful.

And when we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.

Él me besa de nuevo, y esta vez, se siente familiar. Sé exactamente cómo encajamos juntos, su brazo alrededor de mi cintura, mis manos en su pecho, la presión de sus labios sobre los míos. Nos tenemos memorizados el uno al otro.

Nothing else is alright. But we are. -Tobias

What did you do?" I scream. "You die, I die too.

So how can I hold Tobias’s desperation against him, like I’m better than him, like I’ve never let my own brokenness blind me?