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I told them I was traveling because it was easier than telling them the truth. It was easier than telling them everything fucking hurt and that sometimes I wished it would just stop. That I could just stop. I wanted to shut my eyes and disappear. I wanted a second to fucking breathe without this imaginary fist around my neck, choking the life out of me.
Even when I didn’t deserve them, they never gave up on me. I had given up on me.
“McKenzie mostly just tolerates him,” Dallas added. “To be fair, I think she mostly just tolerates everyone. She’s not exactly a cuddly teddy bear.” “Dallas,” Katie chided him. “Okay, maybe a teddy bear made out of barbed wire and thorns,” he teased.
“You’re pretty,” she said. “Like, unnaturally pretty. Are you an alien?” I laughed. “I don’t think so?”
I’ll spend every day of forever loving you, cherishing you, and choosing you. Always.”
But maybe real love was never just about feeling. Maybe it was about choosing. Making the choice to stick it out for better or worse, through heaven and hell. Choosing to stand by someone in their not-enough-ness until they could find their way home again.
“I’m pretty sure you woke up moaning my name.” I punched him in the shoulder. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve watched enough true crime to kill you and make it look like an accident.”
It wasn’t like that moment in the movies when the female lead is suddenly struck with the realization she can’t live without this guy. It wasn’t one big moment. It was a million little ones.”
She twirled a piece of her long golden hair around her finger. “When I have a rough day, he knows exactly how to make me feel better. He brings me donuts and holds me on his lap while I tell him about it. He doesn’t try to fix it. He just listens.” She pauses a moment, a smile spreading across her face. “If we’re in the car and ‘Cruel Summer’ comes on the radio, he turns it up and scream-sings it with me. And when something big happens, no matter if it’s good or bad, he’s the first person I want to tell. What he thinks matters to me. If I’m considering something, whether it’s an opportunity or
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“You wanna know what it feels like to love someone?” Grace asked, steepling her fingers. “It’s like coming home. It’s that sigh of relief when you walk through the door and know you’re somewhere you don’t have to pretend to be anything other than what you are. It’s where you can be the worst version of yourself and know those four walls will protect you and keep you all the same. Does that make sense?”
“If I had to say ‘relationship,’ you have to come up with an appropriate relationship term for me that doesn’t make you want to hurl.” “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re my…‘b-word.’” I snorted a laugh. “Did you just call me your bitch?” “No, but that could be arranged.” She waggled her brows and flashed me a sultry grin.
There weren’t colors bright enough to paint her portrait, no words strong enough to describe how magical this love was. But I’d spend my days trying to find them.
“My mom is like me, but with more back pain and orthopedic shoes. She’s going to love you,” I repeated with a laugh. “Like you, huh?” he asked, raising his brows. “So, she’s hot?” “I hate you.”
“Love is something—a very important something. But it’s not everything, and contrary to what every platitude would have you believe, we need more than that—a lot more—to survive.”
“As humans, we want to believe we have the ability to turn the tides. It’s easier to blame ourselves than it is to believe we are but a small ripple in the ocean, and it’s going to keep moving with or without us.”
Grace gave an emphatic nod. “Nobody gets to you without going through me first.” “Look at your cute little guard dog,” Ella joked, wrinkling her nose at her daughter.
Our loudest criticisms usually come from those trying to poison the soil where we’re planted just to keep us from growing.”
Binx opened his eyes to a slit, glaring at me as though saying I’m attempting to watch the backs of my eyelids, peasant, but you won’t shut your trap.
every day you wake up is the chance to be someone else. Someone yester-you would be proud of. So you can sit here bellyaching about what you wish you could change, or you can go out there and change it.’”
