Perfect Lies

She told me only people we love the most can destroy us, because no one else has that kind of power.

I wash myself clean of guilt, of pain, of fear, of emotion. I am the ocean. I am empty. I am nothing.

I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.

Once upon a time, I was a little girl with a mom and a dad and a sister, and the only monsters in the world were imaginary. Then I became one of the monsters.

I chose the hardest path and I am choosing the easiest right path. I am choosing nothing, and , for once, nothing is exactly right.

Silly man, doesn’t he know money is imaginary?” It’s paper that turns into numbers on screens, after all. It’s there, then it’s gone. I put it places, I take it out, I move it someplace else. Imaginary. Most things are imaginary, when you think about it.

Oh, baby sister. We all want things we shouldn’t have. Even you. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you should. Love is a choice, like anything else.

Probably you should stay out of my head. It’s not a friendly place.

Am I giving you a headache? I think. “You are a headache.

I did the right choice so you wouldn't have to do the wrong one.

His eyes search mine, more serious than his tone would indicate, and I know he’s looking to see whether or not I’m falling apart. He doesn’t need to.

Most things are imaginary, when you think about it. Sometimes I think I'm imaginary.

I need to be nothing for a very long time until I can decide what something I want to be.

I have a date with the endless empty ocean. I am ready to leave. I am choosing nothing, and, for once, nothing is exactly right.

I am a girl in want of complete destruction.

I lie constantly. All the time. I’m nothing but one big mass of lies.

I am the ocean. I am the yacht in the middle of the ocean. I am nothing. I am flames.

We change the future with every choice we make,

Cole gets up and then says, “Adam. Five texts. I can read them to you.” He pauses. “Unless they’re personal.” I roll my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m pretty sure he’s desperately in love with my sister.” Cole snorts. “He’s crazy.” “He’d have to be, right?

If I cannot trust myself to love the right person, what can I trust?

I have to trust that, or I’ll lose my mind. Well, lose it more.

We are both of us made of the things we have lost.

Her voice is as casual as a knife in the gut.

This is the tragedy of knowing my fate: I have seen how it ends, and I will walk right into it, and nothing will change.

This was my choice, Fia. I made the right choice so you didn't have to make a wrong one.

I’m still afraid to sleep—too many ghosts peering creeping condemning.

Crazy must run in your family,” he says. “You do know Fia!” I blurt, then bite my lip.

Do you really want to get into my head? I think. It’s not a friendly place. You’ll regret it.

I think happy thoughts and feel happy things and I do not let myself near the swirling black edges of the hole that is my soul when I look at them.