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going to fight for you.” My eyes dart up to his. “What?” He looks sure of himself—maybe even smug. “You heard me, baby. I’m going to win you back.” “Why?” I ask stupidly. “Because I’ve been miserable since I let you walk out of my life. What I thought I wanted and what I thought I didn’t deserve were competing with one another. I”—he clears his throat—“want a chance to try.” “Try what?” My head is spinning, and I can’t keep up. “Try to get you to love me again.”
I think you crave me like I crave you. We both know we are bad for one another and yet our bodies were designed for this level of sin.”
Damaged people attract other damaged people.
We are just damaged souls, stumbling around in life trying to heal our past wounds.
I want better for myself. I deserve better. I cannot keep repeating the same pattern of behaviors and expect anything to change. It starts with me. I have some control over my destiny.
Always look toward the sun and what brings you joy. You are not the same girl you were yesterday. It is okay to make mistakes, but learn from them.
“He looks at you like you are his sun, and he is just happy to be part of your orbit.”
“It is as if every inch of you, every curve of your body, was made for my eyes and hands to worship. You are beautiful now. And you will be even more beautiful tomorrow, and every day thereafter. I’m not scared of it anymore either. Bring on the mood swings and the stretch marks and the sight-unseen feet.”
“I am waiting for the moment,” I say, “when you start to realize that my feelings toward you are not dependent on the outcome of a paternity test.”
see you as if you are the most beautiful sunflower in an empty field. You are wild and free. No one can compare to your beauty, and when I am around you, it is like nothing else exists.”
I am out of options that will be substantial enough for you to see that I am here. I am here, baby girl. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m done being emotionally inept. I’m done pretending that life would be better without the chance of heartbreak, when having the chance in and of itself is what causes me to actually live.”
“You need to calm down. You are giving me anxiety.” “Well, you know what gives me anxiety?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. “No, but I’m sure you are going to tell me.” “Mommy blogs.” “What? What are you doing on those?”
