Night Owl

I never want to learn how to say goodbye

There is no such thing as loneliness. There is only the idea of loneliness.

She left me alone in the riddle. I needed her because I loved her — or I loved her because I needed her. Why had the feelings turned to a maze? Now I was lost in the dark.

I felt a throb between my legs. I glared down at my Cock. Hold your fucking horses, I muttered. God...fuck was this seriously my life? Stalking a girl I'd met online, parked outside her house at midnight, speaking to my dick?

Art is not an assembly of accidents. You have to master the rules before you break them.

Also, will you be communicating with me any time soon? I'm aware of my capacity to leave women speechless, but this is somewhat extreme.

This isn't LIKE Sky, This IS Sky. Nothing lasts forever, and nothing ever ends.

You are always deceiving me, Always, Matt, always speaking to me from any mouth but your own. Don't you know that I love you? I see under all your lies, and I always find you.

The only thing he hates more than writing is not writing.

Always, Matt, always speaking to me from any mouth but your own. Don't you know that I love you? I see you under all your lies, and I always find you.

Sad things seem truest to me.

Night.Owl: So what are you wearing? Little.Bird: Lol! All the walls are coming down tonight... Night.Owl: Haha. God, sorry. I have no idea why I just typed that. Ignore that. Such a creeper right now.

Why did every small separation still seem to echo a future goodbye?

Whatever Matt's problem was, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and snarl at the world until everything left him alone. Everything but me.

Will you do me a favor Matt?” “Anything.” “This is easy. Just repeat after me. ‘It was nice talking to you Hanna. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.’ ” I gave her an incredulous look. :Don’t give me that look. I’m trying to teach you this mysterious skill, one that you seem to lack. It’s called how to say goodbye.” I smiled and rubbed the back of my neck. “What are you grinning at?” she said. “I never want to,” I said. “What? Never want to what?” “I never want to learn how to say goodbye.” I closed Skype and then closed my eyes, laughing into the silence of my apartment.

I thought listening to hip-hop would help distract me from the scumbagginess of my task, but after "99 problems" and "Heartless" I flung my iPod away.

Things I want to do with Hannah: dance, watch a movie, camp, swim, hike, bike, take a trip, build something, have a food fight, write more, do Christmas-

Matt… I don’t want a perfect gentleman.” “What do you want?” “You.

Perfect. This place was perfect. I stepped into the chick pen. “Hey guys.” I crouched and reached for the chicks. They swarmed away from me, making me laugh. “You little jerks. You’re all fat. You’re all going to be ugly in about a month, all scrawny and gray. Come here.

I never want to learn how to say goodbye.

You don't give me pleasure, do you understand? I take it from you.

No pictures,” I told Hannah on Skype. “No specifics, no last name, no phone number. Nothing. I don’t want to know you, and I don’t want you to know me.

Again and again we went there together – tumbling over the raw edge, touching the live wire, collapsing, exploding, dissolving like dead stars.

I wanted it to happen, the deception didn’t matter.

I got hung up on diction and syntax; I agonized over every word.

Night Owl: So what are you wearing?

While Hannah was busy positioning the laptop and shimmying out of her shorts and a thong, I pushed off my boxers and squirted lube into my palm. I glanced at my cock. It stood stiffly from me, nine thick, smooth inches for which I didn't thank God often enough.