Somewhere in the meadow, Macon tormented himself. He had a lot on his mind and he wanted to think it all out. For once, Macon wanted to be alone.

Then, he started having one of those weird conversations in his head.
Maybe he is normal. Hah.

I am really in love with her? Or is this part of the act?
I don’t know, you seem pretty crazy about her.
No. I can’t love her. She hates me.
Have you seen her arms or anywhere you’ve touched? You tend to cause damage.
Shut up, you’re not helping.
I’m stating the truth. And the truth is you love her now, after everything you’ve done, because the act became real to you.
No. That’s not true. It can’t be. I can’t love her.
Yes you can because you know she loves you too.
No. She doesn’t. I’m playing with her too much for her to know what she really wants.
Just keep telling yourself that until you want to really believe that you are in love with Macy Gram.

Macon sighed, not answering. He didn’t love her, right? Or maybe it was that he didn’t want to.