This Could Be Us (Skyland, #2)

by Kennedy Ryan

All loves aren’t created equal. Some spring from the earth and wrap around and twine through our souls like vines. Some are plants that start with tiny seeds in your heart and blossom over time, nurtured by years and commitment.

I didn’t want to believe my perfect life slept on a bed of lies.

I can be alone and not lonely. That this journey I’m on solo right now can be beautiful.

“Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.” —bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions

“I’ve come to realize that a woman who wants more and realizes she deserves it is a dangerous thing.”

I’ve definitely noticed in parents of disabled people—sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking sacrificing everything is the greatest measure of our love. We devote everything to our kids who need more than most.

“Just thought you should know,” I hiss into his ear. “Found out the problem wasn’t that my pussy was loose. I just needed a bigger dick.”

I believe wholeness is not a destination, but a lifetime process. Something that instead of waiting for, you could be living for.”

Life is clever that way, devising plans for our demise from the moment we’re born. Death by a million heartbreaks, a thousand regrets, a hundred goodbyes.

When you hurt the way we women sometimes have to, when you lose so much, when the world ends over and over and over again, we are no longer butterflies. Those wings are much too fragile to carry us on and through.