Crap Relationship Quotes

I'm about to make a wild, extreme and severe relationship rule: the word busy is a load of crap and is most often used by assholes. The word "busy" is the relationship Weapon of Mass Destruction. It seems like a good excuse, but in fact in every silo you uncover, all you're going to find is a man who didn't care enough to call. Remember men are never to busy to get what they want.

I’m about to make a wild, extreme, and severe relationship rule: THE WORD "BUSY" IS A LOAD OF CRAP AND IS MOST OFTEN USED BY ASSHOLES. The word “busy” is the relationship Weapon of Mass Destruction. Remember: Men are never too busy to get what they want.

And for that one moment of freedom you have to listen to all that love crap... it drive me nuts sometimes... I want to kick them out immediately... I do now and then. But that doesn't keep them away. They like it, in fact. The less you notice them the more they chase after you. There's something perverse about women... they're all masochists at heart.

I’m about to make a wild, extreme, and severe relationship rule: the word “busy” is a load of crap and is most often used by assholes.

Just because he likes the same bizzaro crap as you doesn't mean he's your soul mate.

You go in, I go in." "Listen---" He took her face in his hands. "You go, I go. That's non-negotiable. If we're to get blasted to hell or poisoned into lunatics, we do it together." "Crap, Crap. You have to look less rich and gorgeous." God help him, she made him grin. "I'll do what I can.

Let’s agree to be honest from the start. I would rather feel the disappointment that comes with the realization that we are incompatible than to feel the pain and betrayal that comes with finding out that you're full of crap.

Since when do you give a crap about my welfare anyway? I think you're confused as to the nature of our relationship. You and I, we don't get along. You're a psychopathic control freak. You order me around and I want to kill you. I'm a pigheaded insubordinate ass. I drive you mad and you want to strangle me." "Once! I did it once!" "Once was plenty. The point is, we don't play nice. We-" He jerked his arms out from under my knees, pulled me to him, oblivious to the dagger, and kissed me.

I smile quietly. She is with me all the time. I feel stupid now, for not seeing it sooner. But hey, at least we'll have this strange story to tell, love and death and blood and daddy-issues. And holy crap, I am a psychiatrist's wet dream."- Cas Lowood, Anna Dressed in Blood

Plus, once he did the requisite double-take and recognized me, he’d probably beat the crap out of any guy who looked at me in all my Snow White meets Frederick’s of Hollywood glory.

She didn't want me; she wanted all of me. I didn't mind saying it. My girlfriend scared the crap out of me.

You choose who gets your attention, and you don’t have to give it to anyone who makes you feel like crap. Period.

Elena, we have a business relationship which has profited us both immensely. Let's keep it that way. What was between us is part of past. Anastasia is my future, and I won't jeopardize it in any way, so cut the fucking crap.

There are moments in every relationship that define when two people start to fall in love. A first glance A first smile A first kiss A first fall… (I remove the Darth Vader house shoes from my satchel and look down at them.) You were wearing these during one of those moments. One of the moments I first started to fall in love with you. The way you gave me butterflies that morning Had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else, and everything to do with you. I was falling in love with you that morning because of you. (I take the next item out of the satchel. When I pull it out and look up, she brings her hands to her mouth in shock.) This ugly little gnome With his smug little grin… He's the reason I had an excuse to invite you into my house. Into my life. You took a lot of aggression out on him over those next few months. I would watch from my window as you would kick him over every time you walked by him. Poor little guy. You were so tenacious. That feisty, aggressive, strong-willed side of you…. The side of you that refused to take crap from this concrete gnome? The side of you that refused to take crap from me? I fell in love with that side of you because of you. (I set the gnome down on the stage and grab the CD) This is your favorite CD ‘Layken’s shit.’ Although now I know you intended for shit to be possessive, rather than descriptive. The banjo started playing through the speakers of your car and I immediately recognized my favorite band. Then when I realized it was your favorite band, too? The fact that these same lyrics inspired both of us? I fell in love with that about you. That had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else. I fell in love with that about you because of you. (I take a slip of paper out of the satchel and hold it up. When I look at her, I see Eddie slide her a napkin. I can’t tell from up here, but that can only mean she’s crying.) This is a receipt I kept. Only because the item I purchased that night was on the verge of ridiculous. Chocolate milk on the rocks? Who orders that? You were different, and you didn’t care. You were being you. A piece of me fell in love with you at that moment, because of you. This? (I hold up another sheet of paper.) This I didn’t really like so much. It’s the poem you wrote about me. The one you titled 'mean?' I don’t think I ever told you… but you made a zero. And then I kept it to remind myself of all the things I never want to be to you. (I pull her shirt from my bag. When I hold it into the light, I sigh into the microphone.) This is that ugly shirt you wear. It doesn’t really have anything to do with why I fell in love with you. I just saw it at your house and thought I’d steal it.

Holy crap, Caleb! You're my uncle." Nick "No!" Caleb "It's worse. He's the half-brother of your great-grandfather." Kody "You're not helping." Caleb "No, but I'm entertaining myself at your adorable expense." Kody "Yeah, y'all are missing the important fact. To a Cajun, that makes him my uncle." Nick "Great. I always wanted to be a monkey's uncle. Nice to know I finally succeeded." Caleb

Sometimes, in the stillness of my room, my mom’s voice came to me, repeating things she’d said for months. Like, “My skin is melting off my face, isn’t it?” And, “My whole body feels dead from the crap they’re pouring into me. Do I look green to you?” And, “When I’m naked, I can see my heart beating.

You can't hold on to things just because of the memories. Otherwise, no one would ever move house. Or country. Or chuck a crap boyfriend. Every crap boyfriend has at least one good memory attached to him. But you have to let them go. Otherwise, you're all, 'Oh, but there was that lovely time we walked in the autumn leaves.

We played for about half an hour before I realized we were actually playing two different games. What I’d thought of as ludo was actually a game called gin rummy, and what Warren was playing seemed to be a mixture of craps and table tennis. Once we started playing by one consistent set of rules, though, the fun was really over.

Sometimes the people you love the most are the most difficult for you to be around, because they see right through your crap and don’t mind telling you.

The color of her eyes was mossy gold. It make me want to write crap poetry and hire a skywriter." Quinn Sullivan

.....if he’s not man enough to stand up to your father, and take the crap he has to dish out, then he’s not good enough to be with you.

There are always surprises.  You should probably grab a highlighter right now and highlight the crap out of that last sentence.

People annoy the crap out of me," he says. "I think people are nervous and loud and rude and selfish and stupid pretty much all the time." [...] "If they're beautiful they know it, so they don't bother having a personality or associating with people that don't fit into their league or can't afford their company. And, somehow these people are the most popular, which makes absolutely no sense. People try so hard to be accepted, they turn into a walking stereotype. They're pathetically easy to predict. They're insecure and try to mask it with whatever product corporate America is currently making and they always let you down. Just give them enough time, and they will." [...] "I think everyone's caught up in these narrow-minded worlds and they think their world exists in the center of the universe. Relationship only happen when it's convenient. You have to walk on eggshells for people because that's how strong they are these days. And you can't confront people, because if you do, that brittle shell of confidence will crack. So we all become passive cowards that carry a fake smile wherever we go because God forbid you let your guard down long enough for people to see your life isn't perfect. That you have a few flaws. Because who wants to see that?

Poe is missing out on love. Because he's afraid. Afraid to go the distance. Afraid to fully let someone into all the crap we have to live with. I know what it's like to have that fear. But that fear didn't stop the scary shit from happening.

Equal rights should extend to everyone. Homosexuals cannot be excluded because their relationship is unavoidable conspicuous. Same-sex couples are entitled to the same discreet displays of intimacy that heterosexuals entertain. Handholding and kissing are not viewed as vulgar among masses and should not solely determine acceptance or rejection. People need to be viewed as human, sentient, and feeling creatures in their pursuit for love. Until we acknowledge that, no gay-straight alliance will succeed. Because it's not about being gay or straight, it's about being human.

Oh hell no. Guys don’t talk about that crap.” “You’re serious.” “Really.” “What do you talk about?” Shane looked at her as if she were insane. “You know. Stuff. We’re not girls. We don’t talk about our feelings. I mean, not to other guys.” Claire rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, be emotionally stunted losers; I don’t care.

Obviously, oxytocin and vasopressin are the grooviest hormones in the universe. Pour them into the water supply, and people will be more charitable, trusting, and empathic. We'd be better parents and would make love, not war (mostly platonic love, though, since people in relationships would give wide berths to everyone else). Best of all, we'd buy all sorts of useless crap, trusting the promotional banners in stores once oxytocin starts spraying out of the ventilation system.

Sorry, but I have to be who I am. Everyone else is taken... So be your self! Speak your truth - if there are people around you who tempt you with non-existence blast through that and give them the full glory of who you are. Do not withhold yourself from the world. Do not piss on the incandescent gift of your existence. Do not drown yourself in the petty fog and dustiness of other people's ancient superstitions, unbeliefs, aggressions, culture and crap! No! Be a flare! We were born that way. Born perfectly happy being inconvenient to our parents. We shit, piss, cry, wake up at night, throw up on their shoulders, scream... We are, in essence, in our humanity, perfectly comfortable with inconveniencing others. That's how we're born, how we grow and develop. I choose to inconvenience the irrational.

It’s crap when people say you shouldn’t try to change someone. The whole nature of a relationship is compromise, and compromise is change. It can be scary as hell changing what you know to fit with someone else, so I think you’re entitled to drag your feet a bit.

It’s the same with relationships, I think. People always fall in love with the most perfect aspects of each other’s personalities. Who wouldn’t? Anybody can love the most wonderful parts of another person. But that’s not the clever trick. The really clever trick is this: Can you accept the flaws? Can you look at your partner’s faults honestly and say, ‘I can work around that. I can make something out of that.’? Because the good stuff is always going to be there, and it’s always going to be pretty and sparkly, but the crap underneath can ruin you.

You choose who gets your attention, and you don’t have to give it to anyone who makes you feel like crap. Period.

Well, now you know me. You know I don’t have close relationships with anybody any more - I don’t know what to do with these things. I hold things in my hand like pieces of crap and don’t know where to put it down.

It dawned on her as she grew older, that fairy tales instilled false hopes in people, and that no white knights existed in this world. The mothers should be well aware of that aspect of reality, so why they fed their daughters with the same crap for centuries baffled her.

In life in general we get back what we put out, if we ever were to find ourselves in a situation where we get back less or even the opposite of what we put out, then we need to get out, take ourselves out of that situation, for it is futile to try to go against the grain of feelings, emotions, life... it is not only going to lead to nowhere but pain, it is also going to lead to loneliness, bitterness, sadness, despair and heartbreak. so for those of you who are going through this currently, brush that crap off of your plate and move on. Those of you that have not experienced this yet, keep your eyes and your ears open, because in most cases it takes a while to see what has been right in front of you hitting you with baseball bats. BE AWARE OF WHAT IS. be aware of what that other person is giving to you. ask yourselves a few questions, 1) am I getting back the love that I am putting out? 2) Do I always have to initiate the conversation? 3) When I do initiate the conversation, do I get a response? 4) if so, is it on par with what I put forth. 5) in most cases of conversation does it seem like I am being ignored? 6) If I reach out to hold his/her hand does it get held back? or am I doing all the holding? ~~ The more of these simple yet profound questions you can answer negatively too. the bigger the chance that you are in a hopeless, futureless, hated by the other person relationship. So, keep your eyes and your ears open, ask yourselves questions and always and I do mean always, Be Aware of everything. it will save you heartache in the future.

The list of correlations to that night is as long as the Jersey coast. And so is the list of reasons I shouldn't be looking forward to seeing him at school. But I can't help it. He's already texted me three times this morning: Can I pick you up for school? and Do u want 2 have breakfast? and R u getting my texts? My thumbs want to answer "yes" to all of the above, but my dignity demands that I don't answer at all. He called my his student. He stood there alone with me on the beach and told me he thinks of me as a pupil. That our relationship is platonic. And everyone knows what platonic means-rejected. Well, I might be his student, but I'm about to school, him on a few things. The first lesson of the day is Silent Treatment 101. So when I see him in the hall, I give him a polite nod and brush right by him. The zap from the slight contact never quite fades, which mean he's following me. I make it to my locker before his hand is on my arm. "Emma." The way he whispers my name sends goose bumps all the way to my baby toes. But I'm still in control. I nod to him, dial the combination to my locker, then open it in his face. He moves back before contact. Stepping around me, he leans his hand against the locker door and turns me around to face him. "That's not very nice." I raise my best you-started-this brow. He sighs. "I guess that means you didn't miss me." There are so many things I could pop off right now. Things like, "But at least I had Toraf to keep my company" or "You were gone?" Or "Don't feel bad, I didn't miss my calculus teacher either." But the goal is to say nothing. So I turn around. I transfer books and papers between my locker and backpack. As I stab a pencil into my updo, his breath pushes against my earlobe when he chuckles. "So your phone's not broken; you just didn't respond to my texts." Since rolling my eyes doesn't make a sound, it's still within the boundaries of Silent Treatment 101. So I do this while I shut my locker. As I push past him, he grabs my arm. And I figure if stomping on his toe doesn't make a sound... "My grandmother's dying," he blurts. Commence with the catching-Emma-off-guard crap. How can I continue Silent Treatment 101 after that? He never mentioned his grandmother before, but then again, I never mentioned mine either. "I'm sorry, Galen." I put my hand on his, give it a gentle squeeze. He laughs. Complete jackass. "Conveniently, she lives in a condo in Destin and her dying request is to meet you. Rachel called your mom. We're flying out Saturday afternoon, coming back Sunday night. I already called Dr. Milligan." "Un-freaking-believable.

The very first picture that came up on the camera’s little view screen was of him. What did that mean that she’d kept this picture of him? Was it because she still cared? Or had she saved it as a warning? Like, “Never forget how completely screwed up your relationship was with this loser . . .” It wasn’t a particularly good picture. In fact, it was pretty embarrassing. Sitting up in his bed, Max was in his room at Sheffield. It was the photo Gina had taken the day after he’d arrived there. He looked like crap warmed over after his very first physical therapy session, and he was glowering into the camera because he goddamn didn’t want his picture taken.

It’s your crap that’s endearing. It’s the basis of any relationship, way beyond even the choice of who wins on to whom. It’s crap that sustains things. The mutual vulnerability that comes from knowing each other’s crap. How shallow would we be if you only felt things for people on account of their successes? How likely would that be to survive?

You have challenges with assertiveness and setting boundaries. In psychologically abusive families, asserting yourself is not an option. At any moment of trying to stand up for yourself, your efforts were more than likely ignored, gaslighted, or punished. So you enter relationships with fears of criticism, rejection, abandonment, and punishment (CRAP). Because of this CRAP, you fear setting boundaries.

Racism, hate, and bigotry are EVIL and WICKED no matter how you try to rationalize it. I couldn’t imagine living my life with this crap in my heart. I love building new relationships and I enjoy learning about different cultures! If people would change their thinking and open up their hearts, they’d be amazed at the beautiful relationships that they could have. And, for the record, I couldn’t imagine ALL of my friends being black. There are too many amazing people from different backgrounds that I still have yet to meet. NO WAY would I limit my relationships based on race, absolutely not! I am free to like and love who I want to and I won’t allow anybody to persuade me with their opinions. I have my own mind! I’m my own person! I refuse to dislike and/or hate another race ‘just because!’ I am Stephanie Lahart: BOLD. BRAVE. STRONG.

Leonora is the grownups’ version of Cinderella. She doesn’t take crap from any ugly stepsisters. She doesn’t sit indoors waiting to be rescued by prince charming. Oh, no, she rescues prince charming, Florestan, who’s locked up in a dungeon by his archenemy, Pizarro. Cinderella was fun when we were little girls, played with dolls and believed in passive fairytales. Now that we’re grown women who play with toys, it’s only fit to believe in active fairytales.

In our world, feelings don’t rule, many things can’t be changed, and acceptance of limits, not limitless self-improvement, is the key to moving forward and dealing effectively with any and all crap that life can throw your way. So, no, we can’t tell you how to repair a long-broken relationship with a difficult parent, reform a bad boyfriend, or get respect from your boss, but that’s only because nobody can. The only book that can actually teach you how to change how others think is a lobotomy manual.

Kevin, that’s just self-defeating crap. From the first day I joined Deloitte—that’s a pretty large consulting firm, right?—I went out of my way to take on projects no one wanted and initiated projects no one had thought of doing. I e-mailed my boss, and sometimes my boss’s boss, ideas. And I did it almost every day. What was the worst thing that could happen? I’d get fired from a job I didn’t like anyway. Alternatively, I’d make the effort to create the job—regardless of where it was—that I thought would make me happy.

I’m sorry, but that is none of your business.” “Oh, I just wish it was. You see, I don’t like getting involved in this crap. I don’t have a relationship. Why do I have to get involved in other people’s relationships? But you guys always find a way to drag me in.” She was deeply confused. She’d really only talked to Taggart on a couple of occasions and it was usually to get him a drink. “We guys?” “Yeah, my friends. Ryan has become someone I like. See, this is why I don’t like many people. People are fucking maintenance. I don’t need more maintenance. I need peace and quiet and routine. Routine is good, but you’re currently fucking up my routine

We never compromise when we take up a job. We don’t compromise when we buy new jeans. So why should we compromise on relationships that are supposed to be the most important aspect of our lives? When I go to buy something and it doesn’t fit I don’t say, “at least” the colour is right, or if we have to buy a house, we don’t give a crore and say “at least” it’s in a nice locality even if it is too small. We don’t take anything in our lives we’re not completely satisfied and happy with. So why do we take crap from men? Or for that matter, crappy men? Why are we saying “at least” he is funny, or “at least” he is rich? Why do women compromise on the biggest thing of all? The men!

I wonder if all these bad things will change when I’m a high schooler…” “At the very least, they most certainly won’t change if you intend to remain the way you are.” Way to go, Yukinoshita-san! Not going easy on the young'un just after you finished apologizing to her! “But it’s enough if the people around you change,” I remarked. “There’s no need to force yourself to hang out with others.” “But things are hard on Rumi­-chan right now and if we don’t do something about it…” Yuigahama looked at Rumi with eyes full of concern. In response, Rumi winced slightly. “Hard, you say… I don’t like that. It makes me sound pathetic. It makes me feel inferior for being left out.” “Oh,” said Yuigahama. “I don’t like it, you know. But there’s nothing you can do about it.” “Why?” Yukinoshita questioned her. Rumi seemed to have some trouble speaking, but she still managed to form the right words. “I… got abandoned. I can’t get along with them anymore. Even if I did, I don’t know when it’ll start again. If the same thing were to happen, I guess I’m better off this way. I just­” She swallowed. “­don’t wanna be pathetic…” Oh. I get it. This girl was fed up. Of herself and of her surroundings. If you change yourself, your world will change, they say, but that’s a load of crap. When people already have an impression of you, it’s not easy to change your pre­existing relationships by adding something to the mix. When people evaluate each other, it’s not an addition or subtraction formula. They only perceive you through their preconceived notions. The truth is that people don’t see you as who you truly are. They only see what they want to see, the reality that they yearn for. If some disgusting guy on the low end of the caste works his arse off on something, the higher ones just snicker and say, “What’s he trying so hard for?” and that would be the end of it. If you stand out for the wrong reasons, you would just be fodder for criticism. That wouldn’t be the case in a perfect world, but for better or worse, that’s how things work with middle schoolers. Riajuu are sought for their actions as riajuu, loners are obligated to be loners, and otaku are forced to act like otaku. When the elites show their understanding of those beneath them, they are acknowledged for their open-mindedness and the depth of their benevolence, but the reverse is not tolerated. Those are the fetid rules of the Kingdom of Children. It truly is a sad state of affairs. "You can’t change the world, but you can change yourself". The hell was up with that? Adapting and conforming to a cruel and indifferent world you know you’ve already lost to – ultimately, that’s what a slave does. Wrapping it up in pretty words and deceiving even yourself is the highest form of falsehood.

To all of you reading this who are on the fence about therapy because of the cost: It’s smart money, spend it. That one hundred bucks an hour pays off down the road when you learn through therapy how to get out of your own way, stop self-sabotaging and thus make good decisions about relationships and career. Think of it as an investment in yourself. Simply going to therapy helps. Just carving out an hour for yourself, and deciding that you and your life are worth spending some time and money on makes a difference. That simple act alone boosts your self-esteem. Don’t think of going to therapy as “I’m a broken pile of crap and need someone to fix me,” think of it as “I’m going to change myself for the better instead of crying, masturbating and blaming my parents for the rest of my life.

Be big enough to offer the truth to people and if it short circuits them I think that's tragic. I think that's sad but, I will not strike no unholy bargains to self erase. I wont do it. I don't care how many people fucked up their lives. I don't care how many bad choices people have made. I don't care how much pettiness they've consumed and spat out. I don't care how much viciousness , rage, abuse, spanking they've dealt out. I am gonna tell the truth as I see it and I'm going to be who I fucking am and if that causes the world to shift in it's orbit and half the evil people get thrown off the planet and up into space well, you shouldn't of been standing in evil to begin with because, there is gravity in goodness. So, sorry; I have to be who I am. Everyone ells is taken. There is no other place I can go than in my own head. I can't jump from skull to skull until I find one that suits bad people around me better. I don't have that choice. So, be your fucking self. Speak your truth and if there are people around you who tempt you with nonexistence , blast through that and give them the full glory of who you are. Do not withhold yourself from the world. Do not piss on the incandescent gift of your existence. Don't drown yourself in the petty fog and dustiness of other peoples ancient superstitions, beliefs, aggressions, culture, and crap. No, be a flare. We're all born self expressive. We are all born perfectly comfortable with being incredibly inconvenient to our parents. We shit, piss, wake up at night, throw up on their shoulders, scream, and cry. We are in our essence, in our humanity, perfectly comfortable with inconveniencing others. That's how we are born. That's how we grow. That's how we develop. Well, I choose to retain the ability to inconvenience the irrational. You know I had a cancer in me last year and I'm very glad that the surgeons knife and the related medicines that I took proved extremely inconvenient to my cancer and I bet you my cancer was like "Aw shit. I hate this stuff man." Good. I'm only alive because medicine and surgery was highly inconvenient to the cancer within me. That's the only reason I'm alive. So, be who you are. If that's inconvenient to other people that's their goddamn business, not yours. Do not kill yourself because other people are dead. Do not follow people into the grave. Do not atomize yourself because, others have shredded themselves into dust for the sake of their fears and their desire to conform with the history of the dead.

Relationships don't work the way they do on television and in the movies. Will they, won't they, and then they finally do, and they're happy forever . . . gimme a break. Nine out of ten of 'em end because they weren't right for each other to begin with, and half the ones who get married get divorced anyway, and I'm telling you right now, through all this stuff I have not become a cynic, I haven't. . . . Yes, I do happen to believe love is mainly about pushing chocolate covered candies, and, you know, in some cultures, a chicken. You can call me a sucker, I don't care, because I do . . . believe in it. Bottom line . . . is couples that are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but the big difference is they don't let it take 'em down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time, if it's right, and they're real lucky. . . . One of 'em will say something.

To this day, I am still not sure what it was about Chip Gaines that made me give him a second chance--because, basically, our first date was over before it even started. I was working at my father’s Firestone automotive shop the day we first met. I’d worked as my dad’s office manager through my years at Baylor University and was perfectly happy working there afterward while I tried to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. The smell of tires, metal, and grease--that place was like a second home to me, and the guys in the shop were all like my big brothers. On this particular afternoon, they all started teasing me. “You should go out to the lobby, Jo. There’s a hot guy out there. Go talk to him!” they said. “No,” I said. “Stop it! I’m not doing that.” I was all of twenty-three, and I wasn’t exactly outgoing. She was a bit awkward--no doubt about that. I hadn’t dated all that much, and I’d never had a serious relationship--nothing that lasted longer than a month or two. I’d always been an introvert and still am (believe it or not). I was also very picky, and I just wasn’t the type of girl who struck up conversations with guys I didn’t know. I was honestly comfortable being single; I didn’t think that much of it. “Who is this guy, anyway?” I asked, since they all seemed to know him for some reason. “Oh, they call him Hot John,” someone said, laughing. Hot John? There was no way I was going out in that lobby to strike up a conversation with some guy called Hot John. But the guys wouldn’t let up, so I finally said, “Fine.” I gathered up a few things from my desk (in case I needed a backup plan) and rounded the corner into the lobby. I quickly realized that Hot John was pretty good-looking. He’d obviously just finished a workout--he was dressed head-to-toe in cycling gear and was just standing there, innocently waiting on someone from the back. I tried to think about what I might say to strike up a conversation when I got close enough and quickly settled on the obvious topic: cycling. But just as that thought raced through my head, he looked up from his magazine and smiled right at me. Crap, I thought. I completely lost my nerve. I kept on walking right past him and out the lobby’s front door. When I reached the safety of my dad’s outdoor waiting area, I realized just how bad I’d needed the fresh air. I sat on a chair a few down from another customer and immediately started laughing at myself. Did I really just do that?

A LITTLE BIT before Adeline made her unforgivable mistake, a billionaire named Sheryl Sandberg wrote a book called Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead. Sheryl Sandberg didn’t have much eumelanin in the basale stratum of her epidermis. In her book, Sheryl Sandberg proposed that women who weren’t billionaires could stop being treated like crap by men in the workplace if only they smiled more and worked harder and acted more like the men who treated them like crap. Billionaires were always giving advice to people who weren’t billionaires about how to become billionaires. It was almost always intolerable bullshit. SANDBERG BECAME A BILLIONAIRE by working for a company named Facebook. Facebook made its money through an Internet web and mobile platform which advertised cellphones, feminine hygiene products and breakfast cereals. This web and mobile platform was also a place where hundreds of millions of people offered up too much information about their personal lives. Facebook was invented by Mark Zuckerberg, who didn’t have much eumelanin in the basale stratum of his epidermis. What is your gender? asked Facebook. What is your relationship status? asked Facebook. What is your current city? asked Facebook. What is your name? asked Facebook. What are your favorite movies? asked Facebook. What is your favorite music? asked Facebook. What are your favorite books? asked Facebook. ADELINE’S FRIEND, the writer J. Karacehennem, whose last name was Turkish for Black Hell, had read an essay called “Generation Why?” by Zadie Smith, a British writer with a lot of eumelanin in the basale stratum of her epidermis. Zadie Smith’s essay pointed out that the questions Facebook asked of its users appeared to have been written by a 12-year-old. But these questions weren’t written by a 12-year-old. They were written by Mark Zuckerberg. Mark Zuckerberg was a billionaire. Mark Zuckerberg was such a billionaire that he was the boss of other billionaires. He was Sheryl Sandberg’s boss. J. Karacehennem thought that he knew something about Facebook that Zadie Smith, in her decency, hadn’t imagined. “The thing is,” said J. Karacehennem, whose last name was Turkish for Black Hell, “that we’ve spent like, what, two or three hundred years wrestling with existentialism, which really is just a way of asking, Why are we on this planet? Why are people here? Why do we lead our pointless lives? All the best philosophical and novelistic minds have tried to answer these questions and all the best philosophical and novelistic minds have failed to produce a working answer. Facebook is amazing because finally we understand why we have hometowns and why we get into relationships and why we eat our stupid dinners and why we have names and why we own idiotic cars and why we try to impress our friends. Why are we here, why do we do all of these things? At last we can offer a solution. We are on Earth to make Mark Zuckerberg and Sheryl Sandberg richer. There is an actual, measurable point to our striving. I guess what I’m saying, really, is that there’s always hope.

Living life as a young adult is hard because we are just learning how things are. Getting into a relationship is hard and not easy. A guy shouldn't act like a child. A guy needs to give his attention to his girl other than playing xbox or playstation. A guy should treat his girl with love and treat her like a queen. A guy should be honest, caring, funny, and sweet. A guy should call you everyday, making sure you are alright or even texts you. A guy should never leave you on read. A guy needs to see everyday that he has someone so special in his life that could love, care, and have someone to life with. If a guy doesn't care about you and treats you like crap, then he is just a child. At the end he loses you and sees you go off with another guy who would treat you more better. Thinking to himself, what did he just do or what he lost...

Living life as a young adult is hard because we are just learning how things are. Getting into a relationship is hard and not easy. A guy shouldn't act like a child. A guy needs to give his attention to his girl other than playing xbox or playstation. A guy should treat his girl with love and treat her like a queen. A guy should be honest, caring, funny, and sweet. A guy should call you everyday, making sure you are alright or even texts you. A guy should never leave you on read. A guy needs to see everyday that he has someone so special in his life that could love, care, and share his life with. If a guy doesn't care about you and treats you like crap, then he is just a child. At the end he loses you and sees you go off with another guy who would treat you more better. Thinking to himself, what did he just do or what he lost...

Because deep in your heart you know Jane is right. Romance is fabulous and it's worth it! All the crap we go through, all the worry and wondering-it's all worth it if we can find that one person who makes us happy, that one person we can go to and cry with when life is bad and laugh with when life is good. That is what life is all about. It' about relationships and making them work. It's about sharing our lives with someone else we can have private jokes and people who have to put up with us even when we're disasters. If we don't take our own lives in our own hands, we lose. This is the power of Jane, Emma. This is the truth. This is where it all gets real. If Jane teaches us anything, it's that we have the right to choose our own loves in life. We don't have to settle for Mr. Collins if we don't want to.

It’s like Cole said at the rally,” Marcus explained. “Equal rights should extend to everyone. Homosexuals cannot be excluded because their relationship is unavoidably conspicuous. Same-sex couples are entitled to the same discreet displays of intimacy that heterosexuals entertain. Handholding and kissing are not viewed as vulgar among the masses and should not solely determine acceptance or rejection. People need to be viewed as human, sentient, and feeling creatures in their pursuit to love. Until we acknowledge that, no gay-straight alliance will succeed. Because it’s not about being gay or straight, it’s about being human.” Ellis

Call Stella 'Trash Can Girl' again and I'll beat the h--- out of you. In fact, call her or anyone else anything ever again and I'll do the same. I'm done saying nothing. I'm done letting you treat people like crap. Do you hear me?

We catch the train that makes stops in every village, sitting as close to each other as possible, freely kissing whenever we feel like it. I’m torn between wishing we hadn’t waited so long to get to this point and almost wishing it never had happened at all. Now I really know what I’m going to be missing. The motion of the train conflicts with all the crap in my head and I panic. I lay my head against Darren’s chest and wrap my arms around his middle. He puts both of his arms around me, hugging me tight. I can feel him sigh. Is he thinking through everything like I am? “We’ll figure it out,” he says in my ear before he kisses the top of my head. “I promise.” I squeeze him tighter and memorize the rhythm of his heartbeat. We decide to meet at the trattoria for breakfast first thing tomorrow and spend the whole morning together before he has to leave. I already can’t wait to kiss him again, but I don’t look forward to figuring out the logistics of a long-distance relationship, if that’s what he even wants. If it’s what I want. Our lips touch until the last possible moment when the doors of the train threaten to close at his stop in Manarola. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, a smile stretching ear to ear. “Tomorrow,” I reply, beaming back at him. “Good night.” “Good night, Pippa.” He hops down onto the platform and the doors slap together. I look at him through the grimy window, reminded of the time I saw him across the metro station in Rome, when I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. Now I know I will for sure. And I also know there will be kissing.

Love is like a fart, if you force it it's probably crap.

I also tried to explain that I don’t allow “crap” into my life. I simply will not put up with it—whether that “crap” is toxic relationships, negative behavior, or not addressing issues directly when they need to be. If you have low-energy–value crap around you (e.g., day-old newspapers), you are dwelling in a place convoluted with an additional layer of nonsense. Try to evaluate the energetic value of the items that surround you because that directly affects the situations and relationships you bring in to your life. Low-energy items magnetize a low-energy life. The end goal is to keep the crap away and the sacred close.

For me it wor t' opposite. I thought, "Brilliant, I'm different. Special." I thought, "Yeah, this is all right, really." Cause it meant I wouldn't be tied down by all that girlfriend, relationship, family crap, and I wor free to do what I wanted. ... The same old bicycle wheel going round and round.

At some point you do say to yourself, “I’m trying to be the best version of me, what’s wrong? What am I missing as a person?” There’s no reasoning with him. He doesn’t have time for this crap…we have a facade to maintain. So shut up, put on your best Laura Ashley dress and let’s go. Then something inside you breaks. - A Letter To Hannah

Stop it. Stop what-if-ing. If we all lived in what-ifs, then nothing would ever get done around here. Live your life; enjoy your youth, your beauty, your privileged circumstances; and ignore the noise. All that other crap to do with lines of succession and political marriages? It's future-Violet's problem. A million things could change before you and the boys ever need to go public with your relationship, so why stress over it?

Countless people, and not just women, men as well, stay in emotionally and physically abusive relationships, or in relationships where they are manipulated, taken for granted and demeaned at every single step. And yet they chose to accept their circumstances because they are either afraid of being alone or because they are expected to tolerate the abuse by society OR because they are so in love with the manipulative person that they seemed to have lost their identity. They think that by choosing to accept that abuse and losing their identity, the other person will actually appreciate their loyalty and love them more, or eventually realize their mistake and change. But unfortunately, that never happens, and certainly never happens if you don’t take a stand and refuse to accept the abuse any further. On the contrary, the person starts taking them for granted and is encouraged to make thing worse, because they think that no matter what happens, you are always going to be there and silently take all the crap they give you.

Maybe I had been better off not caring about dating and men and relationships. This crap was way too complicated.

Love is full of pain and mistakes. That's what makes it interesting and that's why we explore relationships in literature. That whole 'love is never having to say you're sorry' crap is just that, crap. Love is learning how to say you're sorry.

Now that you understand the key players in ecosystems, here are the key principles of building an ecosystem. They are similar to the principles of creating a community discussed in chapter 8, “The Art of Evangelizing.” CREATE SOMETHING WORTHY OF AN ECOSYSTEM. Once again, the key to evangelism, sales, presentations, and now ecosystems is a great product. In fact, if you create a great product, you may not be able to stop an ecosystem from forming. By contrast, it’s hard to build an ecosystem around crap. DESIGNATE A CHAMPION. Many employees would like to help build an ecosystem, but who wakes up every day with this task at the top of her list of priorities? Another way to look at this is, “Who’s going to get fired if an ecosystem doesn’t happen?” Ecosystems need a champion—an identifiable hero—within the company to carry the flag for the community. DON’T COMPETE WITH THE ECOSYSTEM. If you want people or organizations to take part in your ecosystem, then you shouldn’t compete with them. For example, if you want people to create apps for your product, then don’t sell (or give away) apps that do the same thing. It was hard to convince companies to create a Macintosh word processor when Apple was giving away MacWrite. CREATE AN OPEN SYSTEM. An “open system” means that there are minimal requirements to participating and minimal controls on what you can do. A “closed system” means that you control who participates and what they can do. Either can work, but I recommend an open system because it appeals to my trusting, anarchic personality. This means that members of your ecosystem will be able to write apps, access data, and interact with your product. I’m using software terminology here, but the point is to enable people to customize and tweak your product. PUBLISH INFORMATION. The natural complement of an open system is publishing books and articles about the product. This spreads information to people on the periphery of a product. Publishing also communicates to the world that your startup is open and willing to help external parties. FOSTER DISCOURSE. The definition of “discourse” is “verbal exchange.” The key word is “exchange.” Any company that wants an ecosystem should foster the exchange of ideas and opinions. This means your website should provide a forum where people can engage with other members as well as your employees. This doesn’t mean that you let the ecosystem run your company, but you should hear what members have to say. WELCOME CRITICISM. Most organizations feel warm and fuzzy toward their ecosystem as long as the ecosystem says nice things, buys their products, and never complains. The minute that the ecosystem says anything negative, however, many organizations freak out and get defensive. This is dumb. A healthy ecosystem is a long-term relationship, so an organization shouldn’t file for divorce at the first sign of discord. Indeed, the more an organization welcomes—or even celebrates—criticism, the stronger its bonds to its ecosystem become. CREATE A NONMONETARY REWARD SYSTEM. You already know how I feel about paying people off to help you, but this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t reward people in other ways. Things as simple as public recognition, badges, points, and credits have more impact than a few bucks. Many people don’t participate in an ecosystem for the money, so don’t insult them by rewarding them with it.

Once you realize that your relationship is more important than your individual point of view. That’s where the true definition of “union” lives.

Huh,” groaned Father Gabe. “I sympathize with you, Tommy. Relationships can be a crap shoot. You think you’re going to roll a seven and up pops snake eyes.

When I think back on the twenty years I spent in school, what sticks with me isn’t any particular subject, learning tool, or classroom. It is the teachers who brought my education to life and drove my interest forward, so that my passion for learning continued, despite the long days, the hard chairs, the difficult problems. These women and men were giants. They were underpaid, and they put up with all sorts of crap, but they made me the person I am today vastly more than the facts they taught. That relationship is what digital education technology cannot ever replicate or replace, and why a great teacher will always provide a more innovative model for the future of education than the most sophisticated device, software, or platform.

I swear to God, it’s like I don’t know you these last few months! First you accuse my cousin of rape, then you meet and get engaged to a guy that you just met, and now you’re saying my cousin is breaking into our apartment when he doesn’t even know where we live? Classy, Rach. You’ve turned into a real bitch.” I bent forward and exhaled roughly, as if she’d actually punched me. “Candice.” “And you know what pisses me off more? The fact that throughout all of this, all of this lying to me, all of this acting like you’re so in love with Kash and like you’re some fucking victim . . . you’re still dating Blake!” “Whoa, what?! I—no! Where did you hear that?” “He hates that you treat him like crap at school and that you’re hiding your relationship with him. He showed me all of your texts to him.” I shook my head furiously and attempted to swallow past the dryness in my throat. “I haven’t texted him since our dates at the end of last school year, Candice, I swear to you.” “I’m so done with this, Rachel. I’ve been waiting for you to just come clean to me, but for whatever reason, our friendship doesn’t mean anything to you anymore. But if you’re actually going to go through with this marriage to Kash, at least be respectful to my cousin and break it off with him. Nicely.” “Our friendship doesn’t mean anything to me?! You’re the one who won’t believe me and you’re the only family I have left!” She snorted and whirled around with her hand on the door. “And another thing. I’d love to know how you’ve been going between school, work, Kash, and Blake without Kash or me noticing. Share your secrets sometime, it could really come in handy for me, seeing as I’m the slut and all.” The door to her bedroom slammed shut and I stood there unmoving, just staring as I tried to comprehend what the hell had just happened. How had this happened? How had he not only hurt me but hurt my relationship with Candice as well? I hated Blake West with every fiber of my being, and I hated what he’d done to my life. When

I think I’m the only woman you’ve loved in forever. And you were going to pitch me out that fast, just because I make you nervous. I thought you didn’t trust me, but now I think you don’t trust yourself.” She shook her head. “I don’t want a man like that. I need a man with guts, who’s sure of himself. Confident enough to stand by me. I need a man who’s not afraid to take a risk or two for something important.” “I’ve taken a risk or two,” he said. “And you don’t scare me. Come up here on the porch.” “No. Not until you say that if we stay solid, there will be a real relationship and a family. I don’t want any of this ‘I don’t get involved’ shit. It’s all crap, Luke. You can have some time to be sure, I’m patient. But I’m not giving you up.” He smiled at her. “I don’t need time to be sure. I know how I feel.” “Still on that? Still that ‘never gonna happen’ bullshit?” “Okay, I guess it could happen,” he said. “If it did happen, it would happen with you. I just always thought you deserved more.” “More than everything I’ve ever wanted in the world? See what an idiot you turned out to be?” He had to laugh. She was something, this woman. “Shelby, come here. I don’t have to think about it—you’re the most solid thing I’ve ever had in my life. Now come here.” “I thought I wasn’t enough for you—but I was too much,” she said. “And you don’t get to decide what I deserve. What I deserve is a man who looks at me grow fat on his baby and feels pride. Love and pride.” “Okay then,” he said. “I love you. Come here.” “Not good enough. You have to say something to convince me this is worth the gamble. I came a long way and I came alone. I was betting on you, on us. I love you and you love me and I’m sick of screwing around. Say the right thing for once. Say something profound.” He stared at her and his smile slowly faded. He put his hands on his hips. He took a deep breath and felt tears gather in his eyes. “You’re all I need to be happy, Shelby,” he said. “You’re everything I need…” He actually surprised her. Her arms dropped from over her chest and she gaped at him for a second. “You’re everything,” he said. “It scares me to death, but I want it all with you. I want you for life. I want what you want, and I want it right now.” “Huh?” “Everything, Shelby. I want you to be the lead in my shoes that keeps me on the ground. The mother of my children. My best friend, my wife, my mistress. It’s a tall order.” He took a breath. “If you won’t quit, I won’t.” “You’re sure about that?” she asked him. “Sure it scares the hell out me you’ll change your mind? Or sure I want it all? Oh, yeah, honey. I’m sure.” “I won’t change my mind,” she said softly. “I can’t hear you!” he yelled. “I can’t hear you because you won’t come out of the frickin’ rain!” She ran up the porch steps and into his arms.

Aren’t we waiting for Lori?” Jonah asked. Toby didn’t turn around as he answered. “Nah, she isn’t coming. We’ll meet up with her later today.” Great. Lori was too pissed to see him and Toby was like Antarctica. Jonah still wasn’t completely sure why they were so angry, given the fact that Zev hadn’t told anyone back home about their relationship. Well, there was one option; his old friends weren’t comfortable with him being gay. Tough shit. Jonah figured the best way to deal with the situation was to face it head-on. But as soon as they got into Jonah’s car, Toby started fiddling with the radio. Jonah decided to bide his time and wait for Toby to finish what he was doing so they could talk. He almost lost his composure when the other man landed on a Barry Manilow song and kept it there. Toby had to be the only Fanilow under the age of fifty. “So I’m guessing Lori told you about that guy in my apartment last night.” Toby’s posture immediately stiffened. Several long moments passed before he answered. “Yeah, she did.” “Anything you want to ask me about it, Toby? Might as well get it out there. No reason to walk on eggshells around each other.” “Ooookay,” Toby responded, drawing out the word. He took a deep breath and turned to face Jonah. “Did you stumble across a clearance sale on jackass cream or something? Maybe they were running a special on lobotomies?” Well, that was an unexpected response. “Huh? Whatta you mean?” “What I mean, Jonah…,” Toby said in a louder voice, “is that I know we’re all just a couple of bad decisions away from being one of those weirdos who buys fake nuts and hangs them on the back of his pickup truck, but you really managed to win the stupid cake last night.” Okay, this conversation wasn’t going exactly how Jonah had planned, but he still felt the need to defend himself. “Stupid? Why? Because I’m gay? That’s not a bad decision, Toby. It’s not a decision at all.” Jonah pulled into a parking lot of a decent diner, turned off the car, and turned to face Toby. The conversation was tense and awkward, but at least Toby’s atrocious music was no longer making Jonah’s ears bleed. Jonah would have preferred hearing his car engine drop out and drag across the asphalt than another cheesy ballad. “No shit, Sherlock. But cheating on Zev is a decision. A really bad decision.” Jonah’s mouth dropped open, and he snapped his eyes toward Toby in shock. Holy crap. Toby knew about his relationship with Zev. That meant Lori knew. As much as he hated being hidden from Zev’s family and life back in Etzgadol, Jonah didn’t want the man to be forced out against his will. “You know?” “Know what?” “About, um, me and Zev?” Toby rolled his eyes. “Of course I know. Just because I was blessed in the looks department doesn’t mean I was shorted anything upstairs. I’m not an idiot, Jonah.

Mulaney’s right: the bit has a lot going on beneath the surface. It speaks to our selfishness, our laziness, our child-like craving for fairness and revenge. It speaks to the ease with which we dehumanize others, and the system that makes it even easier by forcing us into transactional relationships. After all, it’s the theater company that rips us off, that sells us the “overpriced, oversized crap we shouldn’t be eating to begin with.” We get even by leaving our popcorn buckets behind, but it’s not the company that cleans our trash. It’s the minimum wage employee, who works two jobs just to keep her kids in school. But that doesn’t stop us, does it?

I think Matthew wanted to protect you, even though being in a same-sex relationship is nothing to be ashamed of.” “It’s a sin.” “Nowhere in the Bible does Jesus say homosexuality is a sin.” “In the Old Testament—” “The Old Testament is crap. It’s full of misogyny, torture and inconsistencies. Jesus preached about love. All love.

You behave like the perfect person with others. But you unload all your mental crap on those who are close to you. Is it fair?

It’s certainly possible that if you scare the crap out of your children often enough, they’ll do whatever you want just to keep you from losing it again. But walking on eggshells around someone is not the same as respecting them, and as soon as your kids are old enough to take some control over their time and space, they’re going to react to you the same way you did the last time you worked for an explosive, unpredictable boss: AVOID. AVOID. AVOID. Once they disconnect from you in that way, parenting becomes a lot harder and less fun. While it’s always possible to rebuild a relationship, that’s a challenge you don’t need.

Calmer parents make for calmer kids. Our temperament and energy levels help set the tone for the house. Every time we freak out, we raise the level of tension in our homes, which is exhausting and can create painful rifts in family connections. Alternately, the calmer we are, the calmer our kids might be. I’m not saying that you’re 100 percent responsible for your children’s behavior and energy level, and your Jedi mind tricks won’t work all the time. However, to the extent that we can avoid adding fuel to their psychotic little fires, there will be a significant and noticeable difference for the entire family. Having said all of that, I kind of get the appeal of losing your shit. It’s quick, easy, and requires relatively little thought, and can we all ’fess up and admit that sometimes it feels good to stick it to the kid? What’s more, it can be effective. Sort of. For a few minutes. It’s certainly possible that if you scare the crap out of your children often enough, they’ll do whatever you want just to keep you from losing it again. But walking on eggshells around someone is not the same as respecting them, and as soon as your kids are old enough to take some control over their time and space, they’re going to react to you the same way you did the last time you worked for an explosive, unpredictable boss: AVOID. AVOID. AVOID. Once they disconnect from you in that way, parenting becomes a lot harder and less fun. While it’s always possible to rebuild a relationship, that’s a challenge you don’t need.

they make a lovely couple.” Lucinda’s father beamed. “What are you two doing tomorrow?” Hello… Now was the time for Bryce to jump in and explain that he had a girlfriend. His dad knew I was here with him… What kind of crap was he trying to pull? “Bryce,” I tried to keep an even tone to my voice, “tell your father why you can’t show Lucinda around.” “We haven’t made any firm plans yet.” Bryce said. “Lucinda, I’ll call you. Haley, we should go before the Cupcakery closes.” Hell no. “Bryce?” “Could we not do this here?” Bryce sounded annoyed. Too bad. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I need to know where I stand.” He looked as frustrated as I felt. “What do you want me to do?” “Man up and make a choice.” I was tired of second-guessing our relationship. Either he wanted to be my boyfriend or he didn’t. Either way, I’d live. I might eat a dozen cupcakes by myself, but I’d survive. “Consider our deal over, and make a choice.” He didn’t say he wanted me to be his girlfriend. He didn’t say he wanted to continue dating me, but see other people. He didn’t say a word. He blinked and stared. And there was my answer. Fighting the urge to tell him what a wuss he was, I nodded. “Fine. It’s over. Have a nice life.” With that parting shot, I stomped out the door and wove through the crowd of people waiting for the valet. Slow, even breaths, that was the key. I could do this, even though it felt like I was inhaling broken glass. I would not cry in public. If people were going to gossip about me breaking up with Bryce, which they would, at least they’d say I made a dignified exit. Now what? I needed an escape route. Jane. I needed Jane. All I had to do was find her, because her real boyfriend would give me a ride home.

Awkward- everyone looks at you when you do that. But only she can get away with that messy hair and what looks to be hairy legs, Maddie will do anything for a chortle. I mean come on shower girl at least. The teacher even asked, and she said: ‘Hitech- I was out all night banging my boy, and I have a raging hangover, so can we get this crap over.’ He said yes, take your test, and a smart mouth to the office. She shuffles her bunnies to his desk, rips the papers out of his hands, will give him the middle finger, and you know the one that you’re not supposed to use in public. As she trips out the door. We all clapped and wooed! That’s when I got it, she has a secret relationship too. Yet does Jenny know, and how is that okay when she just likes me? The point is we can do things we like to do because we're popular and have it all. Up till now… we can only have and like what Jenny says is okay, so really- I can’t do what I want. Mine popularly is not that strong even to this day it could change at any moment with her say. Maybe I had more before I was popular. Like- I have to only like what the popular girls like, and only do things that popular girls do. I had to leave my past self behind. I can try to sneak around with my unpopular dream boy, yet she will find out, and if she does, will I be out of the click? I don’t know, I love my girls, yet do I love him more to give that all up and go back to that girl that has nothing. Or would I have something with him… now that I didn’t before. Do I have to fall back or keep falling apart? I just don’t know! I can get away with just about anything, yet I feel like I have nothing. I have awesome girlfriends; however, I feel so empty. I don’t feel like Karly anymore, Karly, was gone the day I was forced out of my virginity by Jenny at a drunken party. Though she blames me, because I wanted to be popular, Jenny said that was the only way if I was going to be like her and her girls. So, I did it. Ugh- maybe Maddie is now out of the click, and not caring anymore maybe that's why she looks like that? What should I do, what can I do? (#- hashtag: kiss and tell, misperception misfits, and yacking trash talk)

What I've learnt, having lived with, and lost, Jonathan, is that any relationship worth hanging on to is a partnership. It's two individuals with separate identities, likes, dislikes, views, emotions, opinions, who forge a bond that ties them together, for better and for worse. It's a couple. Two people. Not one. You don't meld into each other, like the books and films would have us believe. That's romantic crap. Love is a choice, an active decision you have to make every single day - every moment of every day. When someone falls ill and their illness becomes terminal, that choice becomes a promise.

I was walking all along just going for a walk outside after the party, I just felt good, I didn’t know if I wanted to sing, dance, and or cry; I was that happy getting to be with Marcel, so I went to my spot in the old car in the junkyard. I have to jump the face and rip my tank top or something like that yet it worth it, to see my dream car, sitting there I not a girlie girl but I love this cute thing it's sex looking like me. I found this old car at colleen’s junkyard it like right next door, I freak’n loved this old piece of crap, I even had sex with myself in the back seat, I took the old hood ornament off myself and keep it, my dad said it was off of Neveah’s dad's car, yet it was given to my mom and that why it just sitting outside for all the kids like me to rip the parts off of and sell on eBay. My stepmom hated Kristen, my real mother, so that is why the car ended up where it’s at, it was passed down yet the step-monster made sure I would never have it. My stepdad said the emblem is of a 1950 Nash that I found, little did I know it doesn’t go on that car yet, I think it’s a good fit, I was getting the car on my eighteenth birthday- I freaked up and had to die, just like me in the graveyard we both are retreating away. My stepdads had the 1950 Nash which he said was the first real sports car and it’s all steel, so I put it back on without him knowing that I did, funny maybe that's why I passed doing something like that… it was like it was meant for that car, or so he said and I did also. There is an old fender off what likes to be some old ford over there too that is rusty red, I am not sure of the year it’s too damn old for me to know. I remember right my dad said that grand-ma Nevaeh went to school in something like a 1965 Cadillac Deville convertible, yet, I don’t see that she had like nothing, I don’t know what that thing is. Like with these old cars, don't think you have a seat belt, you just cracked your head off the dash of the Nash and then they wiped it off, and sold it to some other poor ass hole.

The saddest thing that i converged is between a couple whose relationship has shattered. Either way the girl will spill out all of the secrets of her loved one when they were together, that was supposed to be in HER with HER, that is a pretty low life thing to do and same likewise the GUY too! A paradoxical relational hangs unbalanced in the twine of spitting out each other secrets to others. This is mutiny and these type of people are the most pathetic! Have some integrity for society's sake. We don't want to hear rubbish and the people gossiping too are like rattle snakes with hinges of chains spitting out venomous crap.

Oh look, crap that sells,” I said aloud.