I was in love with the idea of him. An ideal of him. Of who I thought he was. Of who he used to be.
"Maybe I just don't want another rejection," he shrugs. "I've had enough of that in my so-called acting career." Oh, so this is what it's all about. "But you're not auditioning for a role," I try to persuade him. "Aren't I?" he raises his eyebrows.
He hadn't lost Grace. Because she'd never been his to lose in the first place.
And like a soprano shattering glass, Juliet heard something snap deep inside. It was the sound of her heart breaking.
just in case" is the curse of packing
Men, Grace learned, seemed to think women were all frustrated nurses.
Forget men, I want to marry my MacBook. It’s dependable, reliable and you can even go shopping with it.
I am a hopeless romantic. A silly, ridiculous, foolish romantic. I live in a fantasy land. I need to get real. And now, for the first time, I want to get real. I want a real relationship with a real man in the real world–-with all the real problems, faults, and whatever comes with it.
Why is it that when you discover you can't have something, you want it even more?
If only men were like New York taxi-cabs and had a light that they can switch on when they're interested and off when they're not available. Then you'd know exactly where you were and you wouldn't have to worry about getting it wrong and being horribly embarrassed. --- Lucy
We are the sum total of our memories. Memories are the most precious things we have. Good or bad. That's what make us who we are. What would we be without them?
If you want a man who's commited, go look in a mental hospital.
It is always the silly things that remind me
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