Helena

“The evening was everything I'd ever dreamed of from a man. The most Max had ever cooked for me were some drunken pizza rolls. And yet, I could still feel that void inside of me that ached for something more. I'd gotten William the lover, but where was William the killer? Maybe I'd been misinterpreting my dreams all along. It was possible that I'd always wanted violence and not love. Or maybe I'd intertwined those things so closely that it was impossible to separate them.”
― Tasha Coryell, Love Letters to a Serial Killer

“He's not wrong. There are ways in which the world has destroyed me and there are ways in which I have welcomed that destruction. As much as I want to deny it, there is a kind of pleasure that comes from being tied up with a knife against my throat.”
― Tasha Coryell, Love Letters to a Serial Killer

“It never occurred to me to let things end there, for the kiss to be just a kiss. I was always escalating things with men far beyond what they were meant to be and then wondering why I'd left every situation with a wound.”
― Tasha Coryell

“The cruelty of the internet is that there is no lock. Even posts intended to be private can be found if someone wants to see them enough.”
― Tasha Coryell, Love Letters to a Serial Killer