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Was there any point in catching up if she was just going to lose them again?
What was the point of being alive if you couldn’t hold on to the details?
“Furthermore,” Shiloh said, “I have a very potent presence. Do you remember Mr. Kessler?” Mr. Kessler was their ninth-grade English teacher. Cary nodded. “He said a little of me goes a long way.” Cary snorted. His cheeks crinkled. “So even though we aren’t going to talk as often, it’s still going to feel like you’re getting a lot of me.” He peered up at her, lifting an eyebrow. “I’m just used to so much of you . . .” “I get it,” Shiloh said. “Your new friends might feel watered down in comparison.” “Mild,” Cary said. “Weak,” she countered. “Shiloh, I don’t think you realize how much time we
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She wanted to remember him even as she was here with him. To fix him into a single point. Past, present and future.
“You can be both, you know.” “Both what?” “A lesbian and, like, regular.” “Regular and unleaded.”
Shiloh hadn’t been able to conceive of a life without Cary . . . until that’s what she had.
“You think that makes us strangers?” “No,” Shiloh said. “But also, yes? Like—cells get replaced in the human body every seven years. So that’s two full iterations since 1992. You don’t have any cells left that remember me.” “I’m pretty sure my cells remember you, Shiloh.” “Not from firsthand experience.” She clenched her hands in the shoulders of his jacket. “Anything your cells know about me has been passed down from other cells through oral tradition.”
Even seeing her now made him miss her.
There was nowhere for them to go with each other. The minute they started, they’d be at the finish line.
“It’s like I’ve already made a permanent home for you in my heart.”
You don’t get to make new old friends, you know?”
This line broke me and lives in my head rent free
Why did the military need to make its recruits look so clean and vulnerable before they taught them to commit atrocities?
“We’re so lucky to be able to eat tree nuts,” she said with vigor.
I feel this in my core
“It’s just embarrassing. I kind of hate to tell you all this. I’d rather you remember me the way I was when we were young.” “Manic and relentless?” Shiloh kicked him in the ankle. She wasn’t wearing shoes. “Shiny and full of potential!”
You never made a move toward me in high school.” “How could I have gotten any closer to you than I already was?”
“I thought we were beyond dating,” he said. “That we would just be together someday, when we were ready.”
I’m in love with you, and I’m so scared to lose you. I don’t know where I fit in your life. I’m yours for the taking, but . . . I don’t think you’ll ever take me.’”
He wanted to ask her how she could just stand there, alive and not in love with him.
Now that we’re talking again, I feel sick with regret over letting our friendship die. It feels like such a waste. Like—I get it. I GET IT. I know why it happened. I lived through it! I am at fault! But it just feels like a spectacular waste—to have had your friendship and lost it—especially now that I remember what it feels like to have you in my life.
When I think about the last 14 years and everything I’ve missed in your life, I feel like I squandered something precious. Like I was given something rare and valuable—a true blessing, an unearned gift—and all I had to do was hold on to it. And I let go.
“I think I’d have to do a lot of reading to know whether I have ethical objections to the military beyond garden-variety feelings about torture and bombing civilians.
And to Stephenie Meyer, who cheered me round the first corner.
I love this for them truly, Rainbow is and has always been Stephenie's biggest fan
