Nothing makes you think you might need years of therapy like saying the word breasts in front of your mother.
Anyone who ever makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, Breanna, you tell one of us. You're with Razor, which means you're family.
I'd like to somehow find the courage to be on the outside who I am on the inside.
I agree. I don't understand how a guy everyone is terrified of makes me feel safe. I don't understand how a guy who stayed behind to protect me when he didn't know me has been shot. I don't understand how a guy who carried me out of an alley full of shattered glass is the enemy everyone is warning me about.
The most dangerous guy at my school-the lone person who makes me feel safe-is reveling in the way I am touching him.
But there is one person who expected the unexpected from me and the only time I noticed disappointment on his face was when I cowered like a sheep. And I had to take a moment to figure out I'm not ashamed of him. It's him who should be ashamed of me. I've put Razor in an unfair position. He introduced me to his world. Welcomed me with open arms. Made me feel like I belonged and I've asked him to keep a secret when doing so is killing him. And I told him that we would be over...I did the exact thing to him that Clara did to me and that's not okay. No part of it is okay.
I must have killed a lot of cows in a past life for Karma to hate me this much.
I'm cold and clammy and hot at the same time, yet I'm free. I lift my head and the autumn breeze feels good against my skin. Free. I'm officially outside the box. I'm free. Free is terrifying and open and it's similar to being a bit lost-but it still feels...free.
The worst kind of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see- the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it.
I love you enough to never make you choose.