The Truth about Heartbreak (The Truth About #1)

by B. Celeste

Less than twelve hours ago I belonged to the minty eyed boy I’ve loved since I was thirteen. But Everett Tucker isn’t mine to love.

Home is relative. It’s a place of residence, no matter how temporary. So, I suppose they’re right. This is my new home. It’s a roof over my head until something happens, and something always happens.

You learn after a while not to trust the good things, because eventually they’ll inevitably end.

I know better than to step on people’s toes and go where I don’t belong.

I close myself off to protect myself,

I just hope they’ll let me stay when they realize how deep my scars really go.

“And that family can be trusted.”

Brighter days are ahead of you.

Trust isn’t something that comes naturally. It’s trial and error. But in the system, you can’t afford the error part. Someone told me a long time ago that trust is like an eraser; it gets smaller and smaller until there’s nothing left. I don’t want it to disappear, so I don’t use it much.

Talking isn’t my favorite thing to do, especially if it’s about myself.

which eases anxiety I don’t admit to anyone I have.

I’ve done it before, slipped away somewhere nobody would disturb me.

Art isn’t really my thing, but I’m always impressed with what people can do.

“Never break a promise,” Grandma used to tell me when I was little. “They’re oaths to prove your trust to someone.

She loves reminding me that she’s seen my parts when I was a baby. And as a toddler, when I apparently would rip off my pants and underwear and streak across the front lawn naked. There are pictures.

They always told me family goes beyond blood. I’ll always remember that, see it in every memory.

my heart feels frozen. Frosted. Calculated. I’d rather invest my time in making other people better than dealing with my own shit.

they prefer seeing life through rose-colored glasses. I don’t burst their bubble with the murky, gray truth.

“Don’t dwell on what you can’t change,”

What’s worse than talking about myself is knowing when other people are talking about me. But I’m used to it.

“I don’t want to be popular. I just want … to be invisible.”

“That way nobody will be tricked by your innocent looks. A burden, that’s all you’ll ever be.”

I’ve always loved love stories. Mostly because they give me hope. It’s why I sneak books and devour the romance, waiting for my time to be swept off my feet and into the arms of a knight in shining armor. It’s cheesy, really cheesy, but it’s what keeps me going when I just want to stop. Stop feeling, stop hoping, stop wishing.

Friends close and enemies closer and all that.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,”

hate people paying attention to me,

“Keeping quiet means less trouble,”

Penn State, remember? It’s a great school.

OMG!!! Penn State!

But that doesn’t mean you can’t let them in. Whatever happened to you in the past doesn’t have to dictate your future. You’re safe now.”

Your virginity isn’t something you can misplace, you give it to someone. Preferably, someone you trust. Maybe even someone you love.

I hate pity. Pity makes people weaker, like it’s the only thing they’re willing to see when someone’s past becomes too much.

I don’t want to relive those moments of pain and terror. Telling those stories would be setting myself back from all the progress I’ve made.

“Art has a way of being the very thing we need to cope with life.”

That’s what true love is—making sacrifices and changes for the other person.

But love isn’t so black and white, okay? It’s a complicated thing.”

What do I have? A crush on somebody who I can’t be with. Who isn’t mine to have feelings for, but the very person I can never get enough of.”

“You’ve loved him forever, River. The important thing is that you acknowledge when to cut your losses.”

Everett Tucker doesn’t have to break my heart, because I broke it myself by loving him.

It’s funny how the heart can still hurt over something it has expected all along. But I guess that’s not entirely true.

The truth about heartbreak is that there is no such thing. It’s your soul that shatters, along with every fiber of your bei...

Gripping the wall leading to the hallway, I make eye contact one final time with the man I’ve held on to since I was thirteen. The man I’ve depended on and trusted and crushed on and loved—loved achingly, desperately, and completely. Our love has brought nothing but pain, to a place where I’m considered the other woman. I’ll never be the one he puts a ring on, who he shares his bed with, we won’t have ...

I’m not a doormat, and I won’t be second best. I deserve so much more than wh...

I enjoy reading. Mostly romance,

Sure, violence terrifies me, but there’s something about the psyche that makes me want to know why people do bad things. I suppose getting in Ted Bundy’s mind isn’t a healthy choice, nor are the other criminals featured in the documentaries I watch, but it’s an interest I never had before—never thought I would. And change is good, it’s important.

Everything hurts. My eyes. My body. My heart. It hurts for Isabel and for my family. It doesn’t hurt for me, because I’m the maker of my own destruction. I deserve this pain. I accept this pain.

“Do you love him, sweetie?” Her voice is quiet, curious, and maybe a little knowing. She’s watched me grow up, watched me blossom and change, so surely she’s watched me pine for Everett Tucker all these years. Pining isn’t the same as loving though. “Yes.” Her hand squeezes mine again. “Then let him go until he can figure things out with Isabel. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. It did for your father and me, you know. We went to separate colleges on different sides of the country, and our love never dwindled. If it’s truly love, and I believe it is knowing that boy, then you will find your way back to each other.”

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

It wasn’t until much later I acknowledged most battles ended in death, and I was the only survivor.

“I just want you to be happy,

It may not seem like it now, but you can find happiness without you-know-who. Give it time, okay?”