loneliness is a bitter, wretched companion. sometimes it just won't let go.
Tahereh MafiStichwörter: tahereh-mafi unravel-me
its like a button in my brain is broken, like i've developed a disease that forces me to apologize for everything, for existing, for wanting more than what i've been given, and i can't stop.
Tahereh MafiStichwörter: tahereh-mafi unravel-me
i'm always apologizing. forever apologizing. for who i am and what i never meant to be and for this body i was born into, this DNA i never asked for, this person i can't unbecome.
Tahereh MafiStichwörter: tahereh-mafi unravel-me
he thinks too highly of me, places me on a pedestal i've never deserved.
Tahereh MafiStichwörter: tahereh-mafi unravel-me
I want you, I want all of you. I want you inside and out and catching your breath and aching for me like I ache for you.
Tahereh MafiThe truth," he says, "is a painful reminder of why I prefer to live among the lies.
Tahereh MafiI turn to face him. "Listen, I'm grateful you're going to help me train now-really, I am. Thank you for that. But you can't go around proclaiming your fake love for me-especially not in front of Adam-and you have to let me cross this room before the breakfast hour is over, okay? I hardly ever get to see him."
Kenji nods very slowly, looks a little solemn. You're right. I'm sorry. I get it."
"Thank you."
"Adam is jealous of our love."
"Just go get your food!" I push him, hard, fighting back an exasperated laugh.
Adam leans into my ear. I feel the soft whispers of his breath just before he begins to speak.
"You guys are disgusting, you know that, right?"
I look up, startled, and find Kenji frozen midmovement, his spoon halfway to his mouth, his head cocking in our direction. He gestures with his spoon at our faces. "What the hell is this? You guys playing footsie under the table or someshit?
He's dangerous, electric, impossible to contain. His body is rippling with an energy so extraordinary that even when he's calmed down it's almost palpable. It has a presence.
Tahereh MafiI made so many promises when I arrived here.
Now I'm not so sure. Now I'm worried. Now my mind is a traitor because my thoughts crawl out of bed every morning with darting eyes and sweating palms and nervous giggles that sit in my chest, build in my chest, threaten to burst through my chest, and the pressure is tightening and tightening and tightening
Life around here isn't what I expected it to be.
Stichwörter: books love sadness ache dystopian
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