I wanted to kill someone and I wanted to die and I wanted to run as far and as fast as I could because she was never coming back. She had fallen off the face of the earth and she was never coming back.
There are some things you worry about. And then there are some things you don't worry about. You don't worry about them because they're too awful to contemplate worrying about.
Why is it I can spend a dozen Friday nights staring at the peeling walls of my "room" without anyone in the family so much as poking a head down to see if I'm alive, while the one time I actually have plans (major plans, plans that necessitate extraordinary focus and massive preparation), my stepmother suddenly suggests we sing a duet of "Getting to Know You"?"
TEN BREAKUP COMMANDMENTS: 1. Move out 2. You cannot be friends 3. Do not process this break-up together 4. Do not bad mouth your ex to other people 5. Get rid of anything that reminds of him 6. Start and exercise regimen 7. Pursue an interest you could not have pursued while you and your ex were together 8. Take a vacation 9. Embrace Change 10. Go on a date
I was just thoughts, just air. There was nothingness all around me. Was this what it was like to be dead? When you died, did you still sense everything going on around you, only it was happening so far away that you didn't care about it? You were floating through space and time, and nothing that happened to you mattered because nothing really could happen to you because you didn't exist?
And suddenly I started to cry. Serious sobs, the kind where your stomach hurts and you can't breathe and there's snot running down your face. I was crying so hard I couldn't even mute the sounds I was making, and Luke put his hand on my back and I thought about how everyone would think that I was crying because of Stacy's fucking speech and I wanted to kill someone. I wanted to kill someone and I wanted to die and I wanted to run as far and..
Be honest, Do I give off a vibe that says 'No, handsome stud, I don't want you to make a pass at me,' while at the same time communicating, 'Hello there, acne-ridden dwarf. Promise me we'll meet again.
I hate gender stereotypes like girls love princesses and boys like guns. . . my point is that tying particular behaviors and interests to particular gender seems to be the major reason guys who like dance get called names.
W]hen I told my dad why I was calling, he just said, 'Honey, you're so beautiful it doesn't matter what you wear.' I wondered how many dads in America were, at that very moment, giving their daughters the same useless advice mine was giving me.
This is the worst thing that will ever happen, I thought, and as I stared into Olivia's enormous green eyes, I knew she was thinking the same thing. This is the worst thing that will happen to us in our entire lives.
Looking back at that conversation, I can't help wondering: Did I know? Did I know what was coming, and did I think that as long as I wouldn't let Livvie say the words, they wouldn't be true?
Even though we'd never met, imagining being dumped by Gene made me want to die. What was the point of going out with someone? What was the point of falling in love? The whole thing was enough to make me wish I'd been born in one of those countries where they still have arranged marriages. I mean, okay, yes, it would certainly suck not being allowed to drive or vote and having to ask a man's permission to leave the house. But at least you wo..
And then I thought that it wasn't fair that at seventeen you could make choices that you might regret for the rest of your life because you really had no idea what you were doing and the stakes were just too high.
Tonight was a perfect illustration of why Cinderella and the Prince get married twenty-four hours after they meet. Because when you're living with your stepmother, there is no happily ever after.
You two look like salt and pepper shakers. That's what my mom use to say when we both had long hair. You're a couple of salt and pepper shakers. And now here I was, just a stupid lonely pepper shaker. What was the point of a pepper shaker without a salt shaker? I didn't even like pepper.
and a bunch of the other guys on the football team would be teaching kids how to bench-press or tackle or rape or whatever it was that football players knew how to do well.