I am so alone, all the time, even when I’m surrounded by people. Sometimes I get really tired of the walls, and I wish I had the strength to just go at them with a sledgehammer.
Maybe I’m done with my part. Maybe I was just a crutch till you got strong again.
I’m not the girl who’s solely defined by the people around her. I can be alone and still feel strong. Know who I am.
Fresh starts, okay? Maybe you’re not ready to take it, but at least know one’s here.
If we’re gonna hang out, there are going to be some things you can do that I can’t. It is what it is. My world’s limited in some ways, yeah, but there’s no sense in trying to equalize it by giving up things you like.
Stress is absorbed through osmosis around here.
Fair doesn’t mean equal, fair means everyone gets what they need.
All I wanted was to be going on with life as I know it. Everything is changing. And somehow I have ended up on the brink of disaster, one I can’t do anything about.
My life is not a laughing matter.
Fear’s more powerful than desire, I guess. I’m no braver know, anyway, so it’s silly to think about.
Parents are funny creatures.
It’s sort of liberating, doing something so entirely out of character.
My life might never be perfect, but I’m really glad it’s mine. I happen to really like my life now, too much to care about what anyone else has to say about it. I like it enough to fight for it.
There’s a particular kind of energy radiating from school on the first day, part nervous freshman energy, part rambunctious senior energy, and part look-how-I-reinvented-myself-over-the-summer energy.
But you’re so damn vibrant and beautiful and... whole.
This is ridiculous. You seem hell-bent on seeing on the good in me, yet you expect it to work some other way for you. I can’t accept that.
I think you’re beautiful. And rare. Fierce but... delicate at the same time.
Tightly. So tightly that I feel like he’s the one thing holding me together and so it’s safe to collapse. I bury my face against his firm chest, feel his biceps tightening around my back. It feels so good to have him holding me again.
Between the friend zone and some other unknown zone all night long, I’m definitely confused about how Pax feels towards me. But if I’m being honest with myself? I have to admit that I’m not confused at all about how I feel towards Pax.
And here sits this person who wants to look at me, who makes me feel as if there’s still something worthwhile to be found there.
Did you love her because she was flawless, or did you love her because you loved her?