More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She sometimes wonders if she’s incapable of loving the way other people do, and if the ones closest to her can sense it.
Helen tries to remind herself that her least favorite thing about herself is how much she cares about what other people think. And that they probably aren’t thinking about her anyway.
She could never quite shake the feeling that she wasn’t a particularly vital member of any group—she wasn’t the fun one, or the good-at-planning-things one, or the model-hot one.
“I’d rather have a fraction of you than all of someone else.”
Still—I hope this is the kind of story where there’s an epilogue. One day I’ll turn the last page, and suddenly—there you’ll be. And I’ll walk up to another chance to get everything right, this time. I’d start by telling you, “I love you.” I’ll keep hoping for the both of us.
Okay so actually I’m sobbing.
She’s terrified that she’s incapable of wanting something and getting it, of real life obliterating perfect weather and happy endings if she goes on for an extra chapter, or even an extra sentence.
