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“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” – Soren Kierkegaard
That in spite of what they felt for each other, people were different, and no matter how much they wanted to believe otherwise, those differences mattered. In the end, those differences had separated them. In the end, they mattered more than either of them could ever have imagined.
God can heal a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces. – Author Unknown
At night, when the lights are out, when the house is asleep, when I am sure that not a living soul can see in my face that I am thinking of you. That is when I think of you. Remember you. Let myself long for you. – Entry from Becca’s Journal
“Sometimes, Becca,” she said, “we put ourselves in places we would be better off not ever going in the first place.”
The difference between my reality and Dr. Freud’s theory is this: my pain is indeed trapped, but I’m down here with it, reliving it each and every day.
Giving up doesn’t always mean you are weak; sometimes it means that you are strong enough to let go. – Author Unknown
Don’t let yesterday use up too much of today. – Cherokee Indian Proverb
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. – Emily Bronte
And what I’ve come up with is this: most people justify their actions with excuses they believe cancel out their own accountability. Most people believe they had no choice to do anything other than what they did.
“Isn’t it just as easy to love someone who’s the same as you as it is to love someone who’s different?”
She understood then in a way she never had before what it meant to find the one against whom all others would forever be judged. The one for whom there would be no comparison.
In one way or another, pain is something we will all know.
Since the day Becca cut him out of her life, he’d been searching for what the two of them had. And he never found it. Not even close.
If you judge people you have no time to love them. – Mother Teresa
Becca could only hope she was right. Because how could she tell her that sometimes people didn’t get what they wanted? That maybe they were wrong to ever want it in the first place.
That real love doesn’t set boundaries or guard with jealousy those at which it is directed. Real love, whatever its origin, is to be shared. Welcomed. Valued.
“There’s living. And there’s living in the past. I just really want to live. What good would it do for me to spend my time dwelling on something I can’t change?”
sealing her to him with an undeniable knowledge that she was what he wanted for the rest of his life.
“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” ― William Shakespeare
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. – Henry David Thoreau
But if there was anything Martha had come to understand about life, it was that people didn’t get to choose their tragedy. Tragedy chose its people.
That she felt the same grief he felt for the loss of what they had once been to each other. And for the walls separating them from ever finding their way back to it.
He stood in pained silence, certain that nothing could feel worse than the forced release of something you never wanted to let go of in the first place.
“Any fool can know. The point is to understand.” ― Albert Einstein
“Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish.” ― Euripides
