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It was quiet, though, and that was really all he needed.
They argued as well, and then Dawson caught a glimpse of her fiery nature. Their disagreements weren’t constant, but they weren’t infrequent, either; remarkably, no matter how quickly things flared up, they almost always ended equally fast. Sometimes it was about little things—Amanda was nothing if not opinionated—and they’d bicker furiously for a while, usually without any sort of resolution. Even in those instances where he became truly angry, he couldn’t help admiring her honesty, an honesty rooted in the fact that she cared more about him than anyone else in his life.
He knew that Amanda would always be the very best part of him, the self he would always long to know.
The past can be escaped only by embracing something better, and he figured that was what she’d done. It
He stopped, hearing the starlings chirp, a hundred of them calling from the trees. Thousands, maybe. As a kid, he’d always been fascinated by the swarmlike way they would break from the trees when he clapped, as though they were tethered together. They were calling now, calling for something.
Marriages, both good and bad, were defined by repetition.
This is our place, a tiny corner of the world where love can make anything possible.
