It daunted me that you were so beautiful, that you were so at ease in social situations, as if every room was heliotropic, with you at the center. And I guess it daunted you that I had so many more friends than you, that I could put my words together like this, on paper, and could sometimes conjure a certain sense out of things. The key is to never recognize these imbalances. To not let the dauntingness daunt us.
This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible. And when it’s just the two of you, alone in a room, you can pretend that this is how it is, this is how it will be.
If smart people are parodying it, that's a sure sign that some less smart people are believing it.
We always loved to say 'If I'd had a Monday-morning class, I never would have met you'. Or 'If you'd been reading something else, none of this would have happened'. We didn't believe in fate, but we believed in serendipity. We felt very lucky.
It's one thing to fall in love. It's another to feel someone else fall in love with you, and to feel a responsibility toward that love.
It will affect me in ways I can't even begin to get my mind around. This day is a dark crater. There is no room for songs. The songs are wrong. Every song is wrong. And I don't know what to do without music.
We just want to walk. Our legs need to move to keep our minds from collapsing.
Breathing is hard. When you cry so much, it makes you realize that breathing is hard.
I want to know why this is such a part of me. I want to know why this thing that happened to other people has happened so much to me. I keep looking for the lesson.
Maybe there's a way to keep us in this moment. Not the sad part. But the coming together part.
She has been hanging on to the hope of him for so long that she doesn't realize there isn't anything left to hope for.
The boy I just kissed is talking to my father. The boy I want to kiss again is waiting for my mother to serve pancakes. I must fight the urge to freak.
Someday your prince will come," I assure him. "And the first thing I'm going to say to him is, 'What took you so long?
But I want to feel like life matters. I had something real with you, but then the realness scared me. I decided to go for other things instead.
Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone.
I cannot think of a single word to describe what we feel. I think we all feel it, to varying degrees. Perhaps in some other language there is a word for 'the world is terribly wrong.' That feeling of stun and unbelief and abandonment and shock and horror and distress.
Even though I'm seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true - that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.
This isn't even something I've feared, because I never knew it was a possibility.
It's like you're a character in this book that everyone around you is writing, and suddenly you have to say, 'I'm sorry, but this role isn't right for me'. And you have to start writing your own life and doing your own thing.
Deep down? That sounds like settling to me. You shouldn't have to venture deep down in order to get to love.
I should talk to him I know I should talk to him. But I do not talk to him. I watch after him from afar and love him.
He has no idea how beautiful the ordinary becomes once it disappears.
I learn about the highs and lows of living with the same mother for your entire life, about how no one can make you angrier, but how you can't really love anyone more.
With some break-ups, all you can think about afterwards is how badly it ended and how much the other person hurt you. With others, you become sentimental for the good times and lose track of what went wrong.
There is always something new to learn about the person you love.
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