Susan Elia MacNeal

And you ended it with her?”
“She ended it with me.”
“And broke your heart. Are you over her?”
“Are we ever over the people we’ve loved?”

Why can’t we do something like go swimming, walk at night, cross the bloody street without constantly being reminded our bodies are merely things, ripe for insulting, leering at, and aggressive propositioning?

“ ‘There’s a war on, you know.’ ” Chuck hugged her. “Carpe diem, my friend,” she said. “Take it from me—carpe the fucking diem.”