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A love like that felt fucking dangerous. But sometimes I just wanted to feel something. Anything.
“Max Bridges cheated on you?” I asked. “The meathead linebacker with no neck and the IQ of a lamp post?”
implacable
narrator says "im-place-able" when it's "im-plack-able"
“What do you think your dad had to do after your mom died?” Boom.
if we don’t keep showing up in our own lives, then that life happens without us in it.”
“Loss doesn’t ever go away, Parker. We build our lives around it, and eventually, it feels just a little bit smaller. You’re trying to get rid of it, and you can’t.”
I thought about that grief Anya mentioned. It wasn’t a hole. That sounded small and easy to ignore. Mine felt like a cannonball tore through my chest. And with the unhealed edges still hurting on every breath, I raised my chin and went for a walk.
We’re always looking for ways to make it hurt less, aren’t we? It hurts because the most important thing we leave behind is the way we make people feel. It’s not things or money. It’s losing the way that person made us feel while they were alive.
“I love you,” he told me, his eyes searching mine. “I love you, and I don’t ever want to be apart from you like that again. Like living without my heart,” he whispered. “Trust me with yours, golden girl, because you’ve already got mine.”
