He’s a lovely guy, but there’s no spark between us whatsoever. It just goes to show, that even with all their fancy assessment tools, the government can’t legislate for chemistry.
If you love someone, really love someone, you stand by them, even when they’ve screwed up. Especially then. You forgive them for their mistakes.
I wouldn’t change a thing. I want you. I’ll always want you.
I know I need to face the facts, and remain strong to extricate myself from this hideous situation, but not yet. I figure I’m owed at least one day to indulge my self-pity. One day to wallow in despair. To give into the soul-crunching heart-stomping pain ripping me to shreds on the inside.
I’m not much of a liar. A hoarder, a hider: most definitely, yes, and sometimes I’m dishonest by default because I find it difficult to share that innermost part of myself with others. But never a conscious liar. I don’t think I have it within me to deliberately mislead anyone.
I fell in love with her suddenly, deeply, in the most all-consuming way.
I was wrong last night. Kyler isn’t just trouble. He’s an apocalypse-level disaster waiting to happen. I need to find some fallout shelter to hide in. And quick.
My mind wanders and I drift off into La-La Land. I dream about Thalassic City. About opportunity. And second chances. About actually living.
Stop talking like we are done for. Like this is the end. We are getting out of here. I don’t know how, but this is not how our story ends.
I don’t think I’d feel any more violated if he’d stripped me bare. I might as well have lain down before him openly exposing all my flaws and my fears, inviting him to psychoanalyze me.
I guess it takes one to know one, and two can play that game.
I forever you,” he whispers, kissing the tip of my nose, and I think my heart might fly out of my chest.
They are far from perfect, but they’re my far from perfect.