It Ends with Us (It Ends with Us, #1)

by Colleen Hoover

Maybe love isn’t something that comes full circle. It just ebbs and flows, in and out, just like the people in our lives.

I hate myself, because deep down inside, I knew there was a chance that I might one day need it. So I memorized it.

I hate him. I hate him in this moment more than I’ve ever hated my father. But concern for his career still somehow breaks through the hatred. When I realize this, I hate myself just as much as I hate him.

Neither of us has closure. I’m not sure we’ll ever get it. I’m beginning to think closure is a myth, and being here right now while I’m still processing everything that’s happening to my life is just going to make things worse for me.

Just because someone hurts you doesn’t mean you can simply stop loving them. It’s not a person’s actions that hurt the most. It’s the love. If there was no love attached to the action, the pain would be a little easier to bear.

Cycles exist because they are excruciating to break. It takes an astronomical amount of pain and courage to disrupt a familiar pattern. Sometimes it seems easier to just keep running in the same familiar circles, rather than facing the fear of jumping and possibly not landing on your feet.

I kiss her on the forehead and make her a promise. “It stops here. With me and you. It ends with us.”