I’ve run my car into a lot of things, and I’m thinking it’s becoming a kind of russian roulette, just waiting for the crash that kills me. Speaking of death, you think you’ll die young--how do I die young, too? I don’t understand why everyone says the person they love makes them believe in God. Because you make me question everything, and I want to find the answer with my hand in yours. The more I think, the less there is to find with you. Why do we need God when we can decide our own fate? Who “needs” anymore?