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“I’m saying the world takes you at your word. Make sure the thing you’re telling them is what you want them to hear.”
I hadn’t lost a grand romance the way he had, but I had lost out on a dream. To make something of myself and get out of this town, to build a life that extended beyond the mountains that ringed our little patch of God’s green earth.
Every day that passed with my hands in a sink full of dirty dishes and my bank account in the red brought me one step closer to the inevitable. Growing old in a place like this, using my youthful disappointments as a reason to hide. Turning into a sour, miserable old woman whose only solace could be found between the pages of a book—or a garden like this one.
It’s strange, isn’t it? To think that a hard heart could make you more vulnerable instead of less?