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106 pages, ebook
First published February 21, 2015
I smiled at him, wondering if it was acceptable practice in suburban Oxford to climb a man like rampant honeysuckle.
Everybody else I know is so use to me. I don't think I bore them - at least, I hope I don't - but I'm everyday,....and in some very small way he was making me feel like Sunday best.
This is the story of my life: standing on the edges of things and worrying, when I'm supposed to just walk through them.
It’s hard to like someone when they care more about how they come across than making you feel comfortable.
“Sometimes I even get to see the sun shining on it.”
“In England? Are you s-sure?”
Yes, you know a big word. Yes, I know that one, too. That's nice. Do you know the word "incongruous"? Can we proceed now? *Thesaurus-Quietly-Closes*Fortunately, after the first few chapters, the word flow was pretty "congruous". (Sorry, I couldn't resist.) *wink*
You think I'm cute, I think you're sort of mildly attractive *and* you actually listen to what I have to say. I've been really lonely for a long time and you're *here*, so you'll do.Yes, I'm exaggerating (a bit), but I really didn't see the development of a deeper bond at a truly meaningful level. They spoke briefly, maybe 5 times over 3 days, then shared a cuppa and some bread, Edwin snapped at Adam, then the next day slammed the door in his face.
l. LOVE. YOU.
"Beneath his body, touched by his hands and his lips and his breath, I found words and set them free.
They were wild words, rough words, raw and full of passion, the sort of words I’d never imagined I’d have the courage to say."
"How had I forgotten? How had I become so careless, so cruel, so locked inside my own uncertainties? I had allowed hurt to gain such ascendancy over me. Given it so much power. But I had come, at last, in the middle of a flood, to some fresher, deeper truth which was simply this: love is stronger than grief."
“I don’t know where love ends and habit begins.”
“Who does?”
This is the story of my life: standing on the edges of things and worrying, when I'm supposed to just walk through them.
Life is so full of rough edges—small tasks and expectations that scratch you bloody and remind you that you're naked and alone.
I knew how to make someone feel cherished and seen and listened to—everything I had myself always so desperately wanted and been afraid I might never have because I was so used to being overlooked.
People make choices, and sometimes they just leave. And, afterwards, we gather up our hearts, pick up our lives, do the best we can with them, and see what comes.
What if I'm unbeable with?