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“If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.”
He runs a lot, remains unattainable and mysterious, and has perfected the smolder.
Loving and hating somebody at the same time has got to be the most exhausting thing in this world.
“I think people call that resting bitch face.” Her nose scrunches up. “That’s just a classless term for girls who wear their pain in their eyes. I always hated that phrase.”
Is she still that girl with the megawatt smile and infectious laugh who found joy in books and butterflies? Or have life’s hardships snuffed out her light?
“Don’t know, don’t care. I don’t want to know anything about you, to be honest. I just want to be left alone.” My chest tightens. I’m not sure I actually mean that, but it’s better this way.
“I made you a list.” I freeze. My throat rolls as his words register and I slowly turn around to face him. “A list?” “Yeah. You said you love lists, so I made one for you.”
Kids our age are fucking sheep. Society is a cesspit. The human race is on a downward spiral, and I’ll be damned if I contribute to the charade with a pitchfork mentality. If we’re all heading for the same cliff edge, I’d rather take the scenic route.
“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
“Open up my Spotify,” he says, gesturing at his phone. “I made you a playlist.” “Ooh, another list. But in song form.”
“The world is vast and intimidating. Maybe it’s more about finding our place in it, rather than seeing all of it.”
Sunshine leaks into my soul and thaws every patch of frost.
“Kissing you feels like catching the sun,”
It’s hard to be sunshine in someone’s cloudy sky when you’re a dreary gray cloud.
it’s a copy of The House at Pooh Corner. Max brought me one of my favorite books. Tears slide down my sallow cheeks as I open the book and flip through the pages, knowing a message is waiting for me.
“Young love…” I finish for him, tears traveling down my cheeks. “The purest fucking kind.”
“Don’t let anyone tell me where you are. Make them promise you. I’ll come for you, Ella. I swear to God I’ll come for you and I’ll never let you go.”
“Goodbye…? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” —The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, 1977 Disney movie
“You look like you’re entirely somewhere else when you dance,” he muses. “Where do you go?” With a slow exhale, I reach for the glass, finger the straw, then glance back up at him. “Back to that boy.”
“You remembered that?” A smile blooms. “I remember everything you tell me.”
“We didn’t break up, Sunny,” he murmurs back. “We just broke.”
