I didn’t want to try to kill myself, didn’t want the blood and the hysterical parents and the guilt, any of it. But sometimes I liked the idea of simply not having to be here anymore, not having to deal with my life. As if death could be just an extended vacation.

The popular music wasn’t interesting-bad, it was bad-bad. Auto-Tuned vocalists who couldn’t really sing; offensively simplistic instrumentation; grating melodies. Like they thought we were stupid.

I didn’t need to be the most exciting, beautiful, beloved girl in the world. I just needed not to be me anymore.

There are dangers everywhere, I wanted to explain to her. On the school bus, in the cafeteria, at Start, inside me. No parent – no one at all – can step in and vanquish every one of them.

The white boots with unicorns printed on them because, even though I’m fifteen, I still think the unicorn would be the world’s greatest animal.

Hurting people, really, deeply hurting them – that isn’t something you do on purpose. It’s just a by-product of living.

Your drive away everyone by being extraordinary. The world embraces ordinary. The world will never embrace you.

It was weird. But being friends with Vicky had made me realize that some people were just like that. Some people were nice to you, simply because they liked you.

No one saw me and no one knew, and for this reason, these nighttime walks were the only times that I didn’t feel trapped in my life.

I have a theoryd that the first person you fall for creates a model for how you approach relationships going forward. Like, it frames how you’ll look at every person who you date after that.