Atmosphere

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

You could develop your personality your entire life—pursue the things you wanted to learn, discover the most interesting parts of yourself, hold yourself to a certain standard—and then you marry a man and suddenly his personality, his wants, his standards subsume your own?

Because the world had decided that to be soft was to be weak, even though in Joan’s experience being soft and flexible was always more durable than being hard and brittle. Admitting you were afraid always took more guts than pretending you weren’t. Being willing to make a mistake got you further than never trying. The world had decided that to be fallible was weak. But we are all fallible. The strong ones are the ones who accept it.

Where I know I’m mortal but I’m not sure that you’re not a god,”

But to love Frances was to be always saying goodbye to the girl Frances used to be and falling in love again with the girl Frances was becoming.

To be the one to tell you a story. I will tell you stories forever, my love. And eagerly listen to all of yours. Because while the great expanse of space may be enticing, I belong here, with you, looking up at the stars from afar. You are, forever, my Frances.