I am now, at twenty-seven years old, bright, funny, warm, caring and kind. But of course people don’t see that when they look at Jemima Jones. They simply see fat.
Good relationships require kindness, commitment, and appreciation.
There is something magical about young love, when you still think that the world is your oyster and you have your whole life ahead of you.
You hate your job. Oh, come on, don’t even. You hate your job and you just told a partner you’re handing in your written notice. The world is your oyster, Meredith. Now you just have to figure out what you want to do. How do you feel? Be honest. How does it feel to walk away from two giant parts of your life that were making you miserable?
You discover something so awful, so life-changing, the only way you can cope is to jump straight into denial.
Because I’m attractive and sucessful so if I can’t get a man I must be failing at something?
You can’t grow as a person,” she said sadly, ignoring my joke, “when you close yourself off emotionally. It’s all well and good saying you avoid pain by avoiding relationships, but what about the wonderful things you’re avoiding as well? What about the joy and the intimacy and the trust that come with finding someone you love?
The only best friends she has ever really had, has ever wanted, could ever truly count on, is Elliott.
Both trying to suppress the knowledge that hugs like this mean only one thing. GOODBYE.
Men haven’t changed: they love the thrill of the chase, and if you hand yourself over on a plate they’ll lose interest.
The point is, you have a choice, and you do the right thing; you don’t act on it.
She walks along the pavement, lost in thoughts about the Internet, so deeply immersed that before she knows it she’s at her front door, and guess what? She completely forgot to buy some chocolate on the war home.
Marriage should be about fun. It’s about friendship, and laughter, and trust, and fun.
It’s not what you think about that matters in life, it’s what you actually do about it.
The place she felt happiest, the place she found her solace and joy, was in the pages of books. She.
She doesn’t think, doesn’t worry, has no anxiety. She feels no pressure when she is in her garden. She can weed for hours, losing all sense of time until her back starts to hurt and she remembers all the other things she has to do.
She is too old to share her space with people she does not know, too set in her ways to share her space even with people she does.
In many ways, the story I’m about to tell you is not about romance at all. If anything, it is a story of life. Of how each of us may think we know exactly what we need to make us happy, what will be good for us, what will ensure we have our happy ending, but that life rarely works out in the way we expect, and that our happy ending may have all sorts of unexpected twists and turns, be shaped in all sorts of unexpected ways.
All I could see was that the one year I was really primed for holiday cheer, no one else was cooperating.
It just feels surreal. Every now and then it kind of hits me, but only for a short while, and then it carries on feeling like it didn’t really happen, that he’s going to walk in this evening and sit in front of the set drinking beer.
In my experience,” says Teddy, “good relationships are based on kindness. On putting the person you love before yourself. On thinking of what you can do to make that person happy. Good relationships require kindness, commitment, and appreciation.