You can’t make any one person your world. The trick is to take what each can give you and build a world from it.
Say what you will, but you’re never prepared for the surprise attack.
I was beginning to see, though, that the unknown wasn’t always the greatest thing to fear. The people who know you best can be risker, because the words they say and things they think have the potential to be not only scary but true, as well.
It was always late at night, when everything and everyone else was quiet, that those voices would rise like ghosts, soft and haunting, filling your mind until sleep finally came.
I’d been convinced I was on the outside, but really, I’d always been within arm’s reach. All I had to do was ask, and I, too, would be easily brought back, surrounded and immersed, finding myself safe, somewhere in between.
All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you’re lucky, there’s someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.
I was worn out, broken: He had taken almost everything. But he’d been all I’d had, all this time. And when the police led him away, I pulled out of the hands of all these loved one, sobbing, screaming, everything hurting, to try and make him stay.
And always remember how much your crazy sister loves you.
Right now, though, I wanted not to think forward or backward, but only to lose myself in the words.
If this was my forever, I wouldn’t want to spend it here.
So while it seemed like you were seeing everything, you really weren’t. Just bits and pieces that looked like a whole.
So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story.
I thought again how you could never really know what you were seeing with just a glance, in motion, passing by. Good or bad, right or wrong. There was always so much more.
I understood now. This voice, the one that had been trying to get my attention all this time, calling out to me, begging me to hear it – it wan’t Will’s. It was mine.
Only a weak person needed someone else around all the time.
Wes wants to be with Macy. And Macy, whether she’ll admit it or not, wants to be with Wes. And yet they’re not together, which is not only unjust, but when you think about it, tragical!
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.
What you need, what you deserve, is a guy who adores you for what you are. Who doesn’t see you as a project, but a prize. you know?
And that was it. All this buildup to a great leap, and I didn’t fall or fly. Instead I found myself back on the edge of the cliff, blinking, wondering if I’d ever jumped at all. It’s not supposed to be like this.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It’s so easy in the past tense.