But sometimes you lose. Nothing you can do but admit it. -Eli.
Life is full of screwups. You’re supposed to fail sometimes. It’s a required part of the human existance.
An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.
So maybe it wasn’t the fairy tale. But those stories weren’t real anyway. Mine were.
You couldn’t just pick and choose at will when someone depended on you, or loved you. It wasn’t like a light switch, easy to turn on or off. If you were in, you were in. Out, you were out.
Maybe marriage, like life, is’nt only about the big moments, whether they be good or bad. Maybe it’s all the small things – like being guided slowly forward, surely, day after day – that stretches out to strengthen even the most tenuous bond.
Maybe it was true, and being a girl could be about interest rates and skinny jeans, riding bikes and wearing pink. Not about any one thing, but everything.
I don’t know. Just because someone’s pretty doesn’t mean she’s decent. Or vice versa. I’m not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting.
You know, feeling and action are always linked, one can’t exist without the other. It’s sort of a hippie thing.-Wes.
An empty frame, in which the picture is always changing, makes a statement about how time is always passing. It doesn’t really stop, even in a single image. I t just feels that way.
After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.
But if something was really important, fate made sure it somehow came back to you and gave you another chance.
I had stepped into his arms, showing him my raw, broken heart.
That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really all about.
She fell, she hurt, she felt. She lived. And for all the tumble of her experiences, she still had hope. Maybe this next time would do the trick. Or maybe not. But unless you stepped into the game, you would never know.
Because you have to just go with the flow. Your life is not your own, with people coming in and out all the time. You get mellow because you have to.
When I pictured myself, it was always like just an outline in a colouring book, with the inside not yet completed.
If what you’re asking is how I debated whether or not to love her the answer is I didn’t. Not at all. It just happened. I didn’t ever question it; by the time I realized what was happening, it was already done.
Just like that, with one phone call, she was a daughter again.
And that was it; it was so easy for her. My own memories did not even belong to me. But I knew she was wrong. I had seen that comet. I knew it as well as I knew my own face, my own hands. My own heart.