Dark chocolate, poured over velvet: that was how his voice tasted. I wanted him to follow me around and narrate the rest of my life.
But there were worse things than disappointment, and I’d lived through several of them already.
I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose.
What would happen if you stopped fighting, and gave yourself permission to feel? Not just the good things, but everything?
I disliked numbers, and they didn’t think much of me either.
I might not be ready to pour out my feelings to the world, but I’d had enough of trying to ignore them.
Every time you show your feelings, you apologize. Have you ever had an emotion in your life that you weren’t ashamed of?
Everybody has a story, Alison,” he said. “Everybody has things they need to hide – sometimes even from themselves.
How are you doing?′ ‘I’m okay,’ I replied, and it only made me feel a little queasy to say it. Maybe I was finally getting used to the taste of my own lies.