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“Human nature. When we’re told we can’t have something, our desire for it grows.”
“You should know that being alone doesn’t make a person lonely. It’s being around the wrong people.”
Organized religion is the root of dissension. People can surprise you, though most of them won’t. Love is the precursor to hate.”
“They say home is in the heart, it’s being with the people you love.”
There was an allure to meeting someone on a plane, sharing a brief moment in time, knowing your paths may never cross again.
The physical distance I could live with, I had lived with, but the emotional distance was something else. I couldn’t get him to connect.
I was questioning the universe and why God took those who did everything right: the ones who loved and provided for their children, the ones who sacrificed their own happiness for the sake of others, the ones with only selflessness in their hearts.
Time was an adversary. It was out of reach and oh so close. It neared, it disappeared.
“be mindful of your expectations. It’s always best to expect less, then you won’t be disappointed.”
I heard her voice trickle in my ear. All the Momisms I’d collected throughout the years. “The best grandparents are those who don’t mind getting their knees dirty. Don’t ever underestimate the power of eye contact, Charlotte.” I
“Keep a pair of flip-flops in your car so you don’t have to drive in high heels. And wear them in public showers. Especially hotels. Do you have any idea how dirty those floors are? Wash your face every night before you go to bed. It’ll save you thousands on plastic surgery and Botox. Be prepared for someone to barge into the bathroom stall. Those locks are never foolproof. Cover yourself!” There were so many Momisms,
“Charlotte, if you can read, you can cook,”
Some guard dog he turned out to be. Just show up carrying food, and suddenly he was your best friend.
“Charley, this generation is rather bizarre. You weren’t photographing yourself with your lips puckered like a duck.”
“Moms are magicians. Did you know that? They’re always around us. Even when we can’t see them.”
Ben was a patient teacher. I had always been most comfortable with directions like “remove from plastic and place in the microwave 20–25 minutes.”
“I’ve read the body holds our misfortunes, that sensitivities are a combination of the physical and the emotional.
“I wish more people would ask,”
that’s when Sunny appeared, his golden tail wagging in the air. I swore that dog could sense pain. He stuck his face down in front of Ben and started to lick.
If we planted ourselves beneath a curtain of delusion, we would never have to face the heartache of what was right in front of us.
“You’re the person I want with me on all my journeys. My seatmate. My love. The person who makes me laugh, sometimes at you, mostly with you. You’d be my greatest accomplishment. My love.
Liberty believed in intersecting circles when it came to relationships. “One person can never satisfy all your needs. You are the center and there’s a lot of overlap.”
“When life throws a curveball, you have a decision. You can go on being angry and empty, or you can move toward peace.
“I’m here if you need me,” he said, patting my shoulder with a reassuring grin. His sweetness took my heart with him as he disappeared down the hall.
Love doesn’t give us many chances. It’s fate and we have to take it while we can.
He was wind; I was rain. Together, we were the perfect storm.
“If this is what you want, if this is what you need . . . I’ll give it to you. But let’s make one thing clear, Charley. This is not how it ends. This is definitely not how it’s going to end.”
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Thirty-two is a supple number, an age that means you’ve lived, while young enough to enjoy the lessons that come with more time.
Compassion stung when it punctuated betrayal.
None of us have time. We only have moments. Strung on a string that can break at any minute.”
That’s the thing about betrayal. It’s convoluted and malleable, changing to fit an individual story. It doesn’t always mean you love one person more than another. For some, it means your heart is cracked in two.
He let me break down, waiting patiently for the outburst to pass. Good old Ben. The essence of calm and composed.
This early abandonment was how I came to bury my head in books. Through make-believe, I could numb my feelings by taking on the feelings of someone else. Stories were the remedy; within their pages, fathers didn’t really leave, broken families were a plot ploy.
Philip with a project, a beginning and an end, was happier and less agitated.
“That’s what we do. That’s what the people who love you do. They show up. They take care. They love.”
“Goose, if you spend your day in a well, can you say your day was well spent?”
He grinned at me, and I knew that Philip was sent to me for reasons I might never understand.
“What do you call the wife of a hippie? Mississippi.”
A line of birds crossed the sky, and I wondered how it would feel to hitch myself to their wings.
“That’s what he does, Charlotte. He fixes companies, people, lives . . .” Her voice trailed off. “He leaves them a little richer . . . better . . . stronger.
“It’s weird to have a choice. I think rules make life easier.”
Abandonment leaves a painful mark. It inks you for life, if you let it, making you believe you’re not worthy, leaving you distrustful of wishes and dreams, when they only disappoint.
He stood up, and the pull toward him caught me at once. I wished I were imagining it. I wished the space that surrounded him didn’t call out to me like a palm against my skin.
“Life challenges us, Charlotte. Every single one of us. Do you think you’re any different?”
“The self-righteous martyr thing is unbecoming. You’re no victim, Charley, so get off your back and stop playing one. Life throws shit at all of us, and it’s how we deal with it that defines who we are.”
“Here’s the thing, Charley, if you’re dreaming, you’re not really living. You have to fight, you have to chase the dream, or else it dies.
