It is an awful thing to be betrayed by your body. And it’s lonely, because you feel you can’t talk about it.
He doesn’t just look upset—he looks newly blind. There is such loss in his eyes, and it permeates every other part of his body.
...but the truth is that I don't feel like I can carry anyone but myself right now. The streets are empty. I am empty. Or, no--I am full of pain. It's my life that's empty.
having someone think of me that way was like discovering a new window in the room i'd lived in all my life.
I've lost track of where friendship ends and falling begins. (this is the foolish refrain of the hopelessly devoted.) there are times I want to kiss you midsentence. undo the not-doing with one gesture.
It is not desire. Instead it is something deeper. I don't want to be with him constantly and forever. I want to be with him for the moment, and I want the moments to go on forever.
Indelible, adj. That first night, you took your finger and pointed to the top of my head, then traced a line between my eyes, down my nose, over my lips, my chin, my neck, to the center of my chest. It was so surprising. I knew I would never mimic it. That one gesture would be yours forever.
I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.
Pride is allowed to have an element of worry, especially when you are a mother.
There is always something new to learn about the person you love.
There are many things that can keep you in a relationship," I say. "Fear of being alone. Fear of disrupting the arrangement of your life. A decision to settle for something that's okay, because you don't know if you can get any better. Or maybe there's the irrational belief that it will get better, even if you know he won't change.
Why do we feel the need to disconnect in order to connect?
I have no more idea now of who I am than I did before. But at least I know that. And I'm starting to figure out who I want to be.
But I had a feeling I wasn't supposed to find her that way. She was not a needle. This was not a haystack. We were people, and people had ways of finding each other.
I still felt fondness for her - fondness, that pleasant, detached mix of admiration and sentiment, appreciation and nostalgia.
I learn about the highs and lows of living with the same mother for your entire life, about how no one can make you angrier, but how you can't really love anyone more.
There is a part of childhood that is childish, and a part that is sacred. Suddenly we are touching the sacred part -- running to the shoreline, feeling the first cold burst of water on our ankles, reaching into the tide to catch at shells before they ebb away from our fingers. We have returned to a world that is capable of glistening, and we are wading deeper within it.
I am jealous of anyone who can make other people care so much.
When the shock wears off, you always hope there's understanding underneath.
It's goodbye to some things. And hello to others.
Even though it was hard to see you, it was good to see you.
I want you to be honest with me. Even if it hurts. Although I would prefer for it not to hurt.
You can't deny that there's something between us." "No. There is. When I saw you today--I didn't know I'd been waiting for you until you were there. And then all of that waiting rushed through me in a second. That's something... but I don't know if it's certainty.
I know there are epic tales of romance, where love means you're supposed to die. Where it's all about sacrifice. But I don't want to die. I don't want Stephen to die. I'm looking for the scenario where we both get to live. Where we can continue this marvel that is love and discovery and trust.
With some break-ups, all you can think about afterwards is how badly it ended and how much the other person hurt you. With others, you become sentimental for the good times and lose track of what went wrong.
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