When you are what I am, you don’t feel things the way normal humans do. An emotion is like a flavor in my mouth. I can taste it. Joy tastes like strawberries. Hate is like ice chips in a martini. And love is… rosewater. I enjoy them all except for one. Betrayal. That has the taste of the char on a piece of burnt meat.
What’s wrong with being normal? Olivia, you’re always talking about being real. Right? That kiss that we had yesterday, let’s talk about that for a second, that was real. Those feelings were real and I know that you know that. And it doesn’t shock me that you’re scared, right? You are horrified and you’re trying to sabotage it. I understand that, but what might be worse than that is I’m not sure you’ve ever experienced anything real your entire life. I’m starting to feel like you attaching yourself to something that’s not a calculated act is just too much for your empty human shell to handle. I feel sorry for you.