You put me through hell. On purpose. Made me suffer. And there__ no end in sight. I don__ know what the fuck you__e doing, ace, but this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde shit ain__ cutting it with me.

Don__ you think it__ actually harder for you . . . to adapt, I mean? Because you__e done all that stuff?___re you asking me if I wish I'd never done it?_____ just wondering if it would have been easier for you. If you__ led a smaller life. To live like this, I mean.___ will never, ever regret the things I've done. Because most days, if you__e stuck in one of these, all you have are the places n your memory that you can go to._ He smiled. It was tight, as if it cost him. __o if you__e asking me would I rather be reminiscing about the view of the caste from the minimart, or that lovely row of shops down off the roundabout, then, no. My life was just fine, thanks.

Don't show a friend your gift, or your bag of money if you still want to maintain your relationship, but if nay, go on, and all you'll see is hate and jealousy, and you'll fight with him in the street like a dog and all you'll feel is regret.

We're both whisper-screaming at each other. All I can think is this is the worst possible way to break up with somebody.

As he stared into the ocean, he must have tossed a lifetime of apologies into its silence. Maybe he thought the tide would wash his troubles away.

why do we feel alone?" he asked quietly and defeated, "because in this world, we are told we need someone else to make us feel something, to show us good and to make us feel valuable." "why is that you think?" "because we haven't learnt to love ourselves." he looked down, tracing his fingers over a worn picture frame.