That's what life is, a series of fuck-ups and what you make of 'em.

I don't have friends. I talk to people when I have to. I smile. I do the socially acceptable thing and tolerate people when I'm at work. But no one gets in my personal space. I don't need anybody!

...then I wonder, does anyone ever intend on being that kind of person?

Find something to help you accept reality. Because after all, that's where the pain's come from - from reality.Find something good, something magnificent, find you something meaningful to fill that hole that's ate you up on the inside.

I may be fucked up, I may be a mess, but you are my salvation.

We're all broken.

Broken?" I laughed. "Nah, princess. I'm a shattered fucking mess.

I hadn't talked to myself in a while, but then again, I was all alone. I was my only true supporter. And loneliness is a bitch.

I loved him in a way I doubt I will ever love another man, and I know that because I’ve hated him more than I’ve ever hated anyone before. Hate is a product of failed love only when you can’t find it in you to let go. And you know what? I fucking hate him because I love him.