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Sometimes we wore such hurtful, limiting labels in this life, whether they’d been assigned by others or by ourselves. I’d felt damaged and ruined once, but I didn’t anymore. I was still a work in progress, but I wasn’t a victim. I was a survivor.
“It’s not the things you do with love and good intentions that you end up regretting. It’s the things you don’t do that you have to live with.
“I don’t create beauty, Eloise, I just reveal what’s already there.”
Our hands linked together in a way that made me feel we’d been created together, that every part of his body might contain a place just for me, a place I’d fit like no other. As if we’d been sculpted with the other in mind.
“I don’t mind chasing you, Ellie. Just let me catch you once in a while.”
You were given this pain because you’re strong enough to endure it.
“But that’s what solid stone is made from, Eloise. Sand and pressure”—he squeezed me lightly with the arm still holding me—“and time. That’s all it is, my sweet love. Just sand and pressure and time.”
Sometimes gratitude gets you through the day, and sometimes it just gets you from one moment to the next. That’s all.”
