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burnt out on real life and just wanted to be left alone,
This melancholy was familiar. I’d lived with it daily for a year or so
“What did you do for fun?” I asked, fascinated. “Made my parents happy, I guess.”
Her stubborn streak was a mile-wide
My father had taught me a lot of things.
But he’d also taught me that no matter how much I hoped or prayed or tried, I couldn’t control other people. I couldn’t make them make the choices I wanted them to. I couldn’t drag them into health and happiness. It was a painful, essential lesson.
I think we’ve got enough in common to outweigh those very different differences.”
She opened her mouth and shut it again. “I don’t like this conversation. Not one bit.” “We all carry pieces of our parents,” I reminded her.
She was my adventure and my safe place. My best friend. And I was going to spend the rest of my life loving the hell out of her.
