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“Maktub,” I whispered, holding her close. The word was tattooed on both of our wrists, meaning ‘it is written.’ Everything in life happened for a reason, happened exactly how it was meant to, no matter how painful it seemed. Some love stories were meant to be forever, and others just for a season. What Mari had forgotten was that the love story between a mother and daughter was always there, even when the seasons changed.
She was the girl who felt everything, and I was the man who felt nothing at all.
more feelings you give, the more they’ll take from you.
Once a person broke trust, once a lie was brought to the surface, everything they ever said, true or false, felt as if it was at least partially covered in betrayal.
“No one in love should ever be anything less than content.”
“Perhaps I’m one of those novels where you have to keep turning the page until the very end to understand the meaning.”
“Just because you smile and act free doesn’t mean the cage doesn’t exist.
merely means you lowered your standards for how far you’ll allow yourself to fly.”
A boy who doesn’t go down doesn’t have the right to your services once he goes up.”
This life is short, and you never know how many chapters you have left in your novel, Graham. Live each day as if it’s the final page. Breathe each moment as if it’s the final word. Be brave, my son. Be brave.”
“Being around you does something strange to me, something that hasn’t happened in such a long time.” “What happens?” He took my hand in his then led it to his chest, and his next words came out as a whisper. “My heart begins to beat again.”
The hardest part of life was watching a loved one walk straight into fire when all you could do was sit and watch them as they burned.
“Loneliness is a liar,” Graham told me, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he spoke. “It’s toxic and deadly most of the time. It forces people to believe they are better off with the devil himself than being alone, because somehow being alone means a person failed. Somehow being alone means a person isn’t good enough. So, more often than not, the poison of loneliness seeps in and makes a person believe that any kind of attention must stand for love. Fake love that is built on a bed of loneliness will fail—I should know. I’ve been alone all my life.”
“It’s you,” I whispered, our lips still slightly touching. “My greatest hope is, and always will be, you.”
“It’s not going to be easy. It might be very hard, and weird, and out of the norm, but I promise you, if you give me a chance, if you give us a few moments, I’ll make it worth all of your time. Say okay?” I lived in the moment, and my lips parted. “Okay.”
“Being with someone you aren’t meant to be with out of fear of being alone isn’t worth it. I promise you, you’ll spend your life being lonelier with him than you would being without him. Love doesn’t push things away. Love doesn’t suffocate. It makes the world bloom.
was wrong about him. The way he loves you is inspiring. The way you love him is breathtaking. If I am ever lucky enough to feel even a fourth of what you two have, then I’ll die happy.”
Real love took work. Real love took communication. Real love only grew if those involved took the time to nurture it, to water it, to give it light.
