Evil people rarely know they’re evil.

This was just what people did now. We went from emotion to phone. This was how you didn’t die in the twenty-first century.

I could feel us attaching and knew that any chance of breaking apart from him emotionally was not possible. I was his now.

I realized it wasn’t my impending departure for Phoenix that stopped me from offering the words. And it wasn’t my fear of intimacy. It was still my fear of rejection.

I didn’t know what I was doing or who I was being, but I knew that I liked it better than me.

I had liked it so much when I got it, but now that it was no longer new it didn’t feel good enough. Now that I had owned it for more than a minute it had gotten some of me on it.

“No, he’s, like, I don’t know what. A computer programmer. Might be on the spectrum. Does yoga, though. Huge cock.” “So fun,”

So I was going to try to be happy, even if it brought me more suffering.

I was not trying to kill myself so much as vanish. I just wanted to go to sleep and be transported into the ether, another world. I guess that vanishing would have meant death, so perhaps it was an attempt at suicide? But I felt afraid of death, or at least, afraid of dying. Was there something that wasn’t death but wasn’t here either?