Is it because they are so comfortable, they already know what the other is thinking? Or is it because after a certain point, there is simply nothing left to say?
This is when I realize that Anna has already left the table, and more importantly, that nobody noticed.
It is so easy to presume that while your own world has ground to an absolute halt, so has everyone else’s.
There is nothing worse than silence, strung like heavy beads on too delicate a conversation.
What I want, more than anything, is to turn back time a little. To become the kid I used to be, who believed whatever my mother said was one hundred percent true and right without looking hard enough to see the hairline crack.
My mother walks forward. She’s crying, but there’s a smile on her face. For God’s sake, is it any wonder I can’t ever understand what you people are feeling?
The bottom line in both cases is that people don’t change; that no matter how charming you are and how fiercely you love, you cannot turn a person into something she’s not.
I tell you this as a cautionary tale: beware of getting what you want. It’s bound to disappoint you.
But there is a different between mending someone who’s broken and finding someone who makes you complete.
But there’s an enormous difference between an audience that’s watching you because they can’t wait to see what comes next and an audience that’s watching you because they’re waiting for you to fail.
I imagine having that sixth sense, the certainty that what I’m looking for is within reach, even if it’s still hidden.
A world that was crowded with people could still be a very lonely place.
We all have things that come back to haunt us. Some of us just see them more clearly than others.
How many times would I throw this away before I realized it was what I had been looking for all along?
I imagined what it would be like to hold a butterfly in your hands something bejeweled and treasured and to know that despite your devotion it was dying by degrees.
She was forced to consider the startling fact that the love of her life might not actually be someone with whom she could spend a lifetime.
I realized it was like looking into the sun – you shouldn’t do it, because you’d turn your face away and be blind to everything else.
Life could take on any number of shapes while you were busy fighting your own demons. But if you were changing at the same rate as the person beside you, nothing else really mattered. You became each other’s constant.
An item that looks perfectly normal on the surface might only be disguised.
You would wind up as a cat, I told her. They don’t need anyone else. I need you, she replied. Well, I said. Maybe I’ll come back as catnip.