❝Whenever I’m in a crowded place, I always fall in lust with the face of a beautiful stranger I see. That same night I find myself laying in bed dreaming about the person I saw earlier and, by the time I wake up in the morning, they disappear from my mind. It’s an endless cycle.❞

❝I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.❞