It Is My Time. The Time Of

That's More Than Three Questions, Max. And Sometimes Whether Someone Is Your Friend Or Enemy Is All In How You Look At It. But If You Must Know, I Consider Myself Your Friend, A Good Friend Who Loves You Very Much. No One Loves You More Than I Do, Maximum. Now Listen. I Ask The Questions, Not You. You're Just Here... For The Ride. For The Incredible, Indescribable Maximum Ride.

Oh, My God. It Hit Me Like A Tsunami Then: How Perfect He Was For Me, How He Was Everything I Could Possibly Hope For, As A Friend, Boyfriend - Maybe Even More. He Was It For Me. There Would Be No More Looking. I Really, Really Loved Him, With A Whole New Kind Of Love I'd Never Felt Before, Something That Made Every Other Kind Of Love I'd Ever Felt Just Seem Washed Out And Wimpy In Comparison. I Loved Him With Every Cell In My Body, Every Thought In My Head, Every Feather In My Wings, Every Breath In My Lungs. And Air Sacs.

In My Office In Florida I Have, I Think, 30 Manuscript Piles Around The Room. Some Are Screenplays Or Comic Books Or Graphic Novels. Some Are Almost Done. Some I'm Rewriting. If I'm Working With A Co-writer, They'll Usually Write The First Draft. And Then I Write Subsequent Drafts.

I Love Movies And I Like A Lot Of Good Television. At The End Of The Project, I Don't Care If They Changed [it From The Book], I Just Want To Look At It And Go, "i Loved That. That Really Turned Out Well."

The Next Morning, Fang And I Broke Up. Now Let Me Get This Strait, I Broke Up With Him. A Split Second After He Broke Up With Me.