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I don’t deserve my best friend.
memories have a tendency of painting over the truth.
Being touched by someone can feel meaningless until you’re touched by the right person.
And if this sad excuse for a tree house isn’t enough proof of how deeply he loves me, the quarter-sized blisters on his hands sure are.
Socializing is fun in theory, but most of the time it just feels exhausting. Sometimes it even gives me a headache.
I think some of the best friendships are ones like this, where you can sit in complete silence and never once feel lonely.
And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that fear can bind you. Keep you away from the things that could very well fill your soul. The things that could heal you. We’re well acquainted, fear and I.
“Be kind. Be funny. Be interesting. That is where you will find your power.”
“This tree house used to be our entire world,” I whisper.
“It served its purpose. Made us happy all those years.” I can tell his head turns on his side to face me, but my eyes stay glued to the ceiling. “But we were never meant to stay this small.”
“Some things are easier to say in the dark.”
“People grow apart. It’s just life.” She shakes her head. “No. See, I don’t accept that. Because I love Maitland, but us three? We’re soul mates.”
realize that sometimes you have to love people more than you want to change them.
“It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t let it keep you from moving forward with your life.
But that’s the thing about truth. Sometimes we mistake our emotions for the truth. Sometimes our truth isn’t the truth at all.

