Where We Belong

by Emily Giffin

That in the end, only the truth will set you free.

“Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but somehow miraculously still my own. Never forget for a single minute, you didn’t grow under my heart but in it.”

But they turned out to be even more fake than the popular crowd, spending hours cultivating their emo image, listening to obscure indie bands no one had ever heard of (and who they’d immediately disown as soon as someone outside the group “discovered” them, too), spending a fortune at Hot Topic and Urban Outfitters to look as if they went to a thrift shop, and in the worst example, drawing fake scars onto their wrists and lying about suicide attempts.

I mean, I am apathetic, but only about my life, not the whole world, and I do follow current events, unlike most of the kids I know.

and Conrad was my first. He was a symbol of independence and possibility. The ultimate fantasy.

“Do you like her?” I said, pointing to Courtney. “I like her music. And I think she’s interesting—the subversive feminism and slut-diva image stuff. And her music is legit. Live Through This will stand the test of time. I mean, ‘Doll Parts’? ‘Violet’? Pretty brilliant stuff. But she’s a mess,” Conrad said, backing out of the lot. “I feel sorry for her…” “Because she’s a single parent?” I asked, singularly focused. “Because the man she loved blew his brains out…”

I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why.

I think of all his little sayings: “You never get a second chance to make a first impression” and “The purpose of life is a life of purpose” and “He who fails to plan, plans to fail.”

I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is fast. And it keeps speeding up. Sometimes I lose track of the season—or even the year. And we just have to make the best of it all. Our choices. Our fleeting moments together.”

I smile, thinking that this is at least one thing my family has in common with this one, and maybe families everywhere. When in doubt, go ahead and eat.

“I’m not going to say things happen for a reason—because I really don’t believe that. I think much of life is random … But I will say this. I’m glad everything happened the way it did.

Even if we no longer have much in common, we would have always had the past, which, in some ways, is just as important as the present or future. It is where we come from, what makes us who we are.

“Because Marian was the love of my life. For a long time. And that’s the kind of information you share when you’re young and stupid and hoping that you’re in something that is going to be even bigger and better than what you once lost. It’s the kind of shit you waste your time thinking about. Lemme tell you—it does no good. Remember that, okay? Things are what they are and there’s no point dwelling in the past or wondering what could have been.”

“You can’t go back,” he says. “Just look forward. You’re doing the right thing now.”

“‘What’s not to love’ is hardly a reason to love,” she says. “And the catch of your life is not the same thing as the love of your life. Be careful of that subtle but rather crucial distinction.”

It’s about wanting something real—even if it’s messy and complicated.

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. There are so many things I want to say, yet my mind goes blank and all I can do is feel.

I’ve often let my goals supersede the journey—and the love of what I’m doing. A constant battle to stay in control, get to the next level, ensure that my life stays perfectly, carefully scripted.

“Yeah. I guess so. But in some ways I think I was smarter then,” I say, thinking of how I followed my gut that night when I said yes to him. For years, I regretted it. Regretted him. Even regretted her. But now I can see that there is redemption and beauty in an accident emanating from love. Now I can see that she is the best thing I ever did.

It is not what I planned—this day, this moment, these unlikely relationships, both old and new. Yet I feel overcome with peace and certainty that, for once, I am exactly where I should be.