All I’d ever wanted was to forget. But even when I thought I had, pieces had kept emerging, like bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below. Because that is what happens when you try to run from the past. It doesn’t just catch up: it overtakes, blotting out the future, the landscape, the very sky, until there is no path left except that which leads through it, the only one that can ever get you home.
I’d done the right thing. I always did. It just would have been nice if someone had noticed.
Just because a person isn’t talking about something doesn’t mean it’s not on their mind. Often, in fact, it’s why they won’t speak of it.
It was unrealistic to expect to be constantly in the happiest place. In real life, you’re lucky just to be always somewhere nearby.
That was the thing: Once, the difference between light and dark had been basic. One was good, one bad. Suddenly, though, things weren’t so clear. The dark was still a mystery, something hidden, something to be scared of, but I’d come to fear the light, too. It was where everything was revealed, or seemed to be. Eyes closed, I saw only the blackness, reminding me of this one thing, the most deep of my secrets; eyes open, there was only the world that didn’t know it, bright, inescapable, and somehow, still there.
That’s the thing, though. You always think you want to be noticed. Until you are.
It was a weird kind of loneliness, feeling that some of my closest friends didn’t actually know I existed.
For most of us, once something was busted, it was game over. I would have loved to know how it felt, just once, to have something fall apart and see options instead of endings.
I got back in my car, starting the engine, then drove off. It wasn’t until I pulled onto the highway that it all really sunk it, how temporary our friendship had been. We’d been on our breaks, after all, but it wasn’t our relationships that were on pause: it was us. Now we were both in motion again, moving ahead. So what if there were questions left unanswered. Life went on. We knew that better than anyone.
When I got to my own face, I found myself staring at it, so bright with dark all around it, like it was someone I didn’t recognize. Like a word on a page that you’ve printed and read a million times, that suddenly looks strange or wrong, foreign, and you feel scared for a second, like you’ve lost something, even if you’re not sure what it is.
Plus there’s the fact,” he went on, making it clear he didn’t need me to reply anyway, “that music is a total constant. That’s why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like that moment. Which is pretty amazing, when you actually think about it.
For all the invisible girls and for my readers, for seeing me.
Suddenly, I felt so helpless. If I hated the crowds but also my own company, where did that leave me?
When faced with the scariest of things, all you want to do is turn away, hide in your own invisible place. But you can’t. That’s why it’s not only important for us to be seen, but to have someone to look for us, as well.
You get used to people being a certain way; you depend on it. And when they surprise you, for better or worse, it can shake you to your core.
It seemed like this day could go in so many directions, like a spiderweb shooting out toward endless possibilities. Whenever you made a choice, especially one you’d been resisting, it always affected everything else, some in big ways, like a tremor beneath your feet, others in so tiny a shift you hardly noticed a change at all. But it was happening.
There’s no shame in trying to make stuff work, is how I see it. It’s better than just accepting the broken.
Well, it’s New Year’s now but I don’t feel that way anymore. I wonder if you do either. Something’s happening to me. It’s like I’m shrinking smaller and smaller and I can’t stp it. There’s just os much wrong that I can’t imagine the shame in admitting even the tiniest part of it. When you left it was like there was this huge gap to fill, but instead of spreading wide enough to do it I just fell right in, and I’m still falling. Like I’m half-asleep, and I can’t wake up, can’t wake up...
Nothing had been okay, not for a long time. And every moment that I thought I was getting close, like the one I’d had earlier, seemed to remind the universe that I didn’t deserve that, not yet.
I hoped that Grace would be a little bit of the best of all of us: Scarlett’s spirit, and my mother’s strength, Marion’s determination, and Michael’s sly humor. I wasn’t sure what I could give, not just yet. But I would know when I told her about the comet, years from now, I would know. And I would lean close to her ear, saying the words no one else could hear, explaining it all. The language of solace and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.