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“For you, Rory, I’d gather every star in this sky and string them high somewhere only for you, just to see you smile like that again.”
“So let me do this. You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you.”
“Oh, god. You were taking your pre-game nap, weren’t you?” He nods, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. “I was. We’re playing Minnesota tonight.” “Then why’d you answer? You should be sleeping.” “Because you called.”
Just because I’m not a uterus-carrying member of society doesn’t mean I shouldn’t understand how it all works. Besides, I like taking care of you.
But I don’t know it because for me it is easy. Loving her is so simple too; it’s like skating or breathing. It’s effortless. It’s natural.
“Now I know. It’s not ew or gross and it’s certainly not in the next lifetime. It’s in this one and it’s real, so fucking real that it tears me up inside. You tear me up inside, twisting me around in ways I can’t even begin to understand, ways I don’t even really want to understand because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the truth. I love you, Aurora Sinclair.”
“Because, baby…” I brush away the lone tear that streaks down her cheek. “Even if you’re not ready to say it, I am, and I can’t go another minute without telling you. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to say it back—or if you never do—it’s okay. I’m still going to be loving you.”
It’s okay to love blindly and recklessly too. You know why? Because we’re allowed to love. Just because our parents messed it up, it doesn’t mean we will. It doesn’t mean every relationship we have is doomed to fail, and it really doesn’t mean we should spend the rest of our lives pushing people away because we’re scared we’re going to get hurt.
And, Rory, we have to choose ourselves because that’s the greatest love story of all.
“It’s okay to love him, and it’s okay to let him love you in return.”

