Kayla, be careful with me.” Surprised by that, I ask, “What do you mean?” “I know you think I’m strong. But the problem with strong things is that they’re brittle. They can’t bend under stress. They just break.
I make the best use of what’s in my power, and take the rest as it happens.
I was giving you space. Didn’t think it would turn into distance.
Don’t worry,” he says in a hard, dominant voice. “I’ll correct that bad behavior. I’ll correct it over and over again with the palm of my hand on your naked ass until you’re writhing on my lap and begging me to let you come.
Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.” “I’m thinking we’re a couple of lunatics.” That makes him chuckle. “Aye. But my crazy matches your crazy. That’s why it works.
Wrong. Trust is a decision. You can make it between breaths.
I hate to break it to you, Egozilla, but God isn’t like Tinkerbell. He doesn’t need you to believe in him to exist. Now get your cantankerous behind out of this car and follow me.
I’m sorry I said that thing about burying the knife in your skull. I didn’t mean it.” “You did.” “Okay, that’s true. But I would’ve regretted it if I did. I would’ve cried really hard at your funeral.
I’d rather have the ugly truth than a beautiful lie.
Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
If I was never knocked down, I’d never have discovered the strength it took to stand back up. And to keep getting up after every future kick, knowing that I could.
His dark eyes flash up to meet mine. He says hotly, “Simple is better on you. Perfection doesn’t need any embellishment.
I can’t wait to see his face. I also can’t wait to set it on fire and put it out with a hammer.
But I’ll still be trying to scrub your face and your taste and your sweet voice from my mind fifty years from now, because I already know nothing else will ever be able to compare to you. Nothing and no one will ever come close.
Maybe I don’t have to be perfect. Maybe having one person who thinks I am is enough. Maybe his belief in me can be the seed that takes root in the stubborn, self-loathing dirt of my mind and grows into a garden of self-acceptance.
Shaking my head, I say, “I feel sorry for his mother. She should’ve swallowed instead.
Then he says gruffly, “Please don’t freeze me out. Be angry all you want, but don’t shut down on me. I need you right now. I won’t be able to think straight if you don’t communicate with me.
I learned that love means nothing unless it’s acted upon. Love isn’t real without intent. It’s a verb. It isn’t passive.
Because she’s indestructible, like Styrofoam peanuts.
The more you try to believe in yourself, the more you actually do. Your mental self-talk is very powerful. You have to keep it positive.