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"Sometimes...the easy way doesn't have the same destination." "You're saying that to fulfill a dream, you have to work hard, not take the easy road?" "I think I'm saying, easiest isn't always best.
Doubt is a sneaky little thing. It claws inside the smallest of places, setting up house until it's comfortable enough to make its move and slither seamlessly into a usually confident person's subconscious.
"The older she gets, the more direct she becomes. So don't be surprised if she asks you a million questions or tells you exactly what she's thinking. I think her filter is broken. The warranty is expired so we're all forced to put up with it."
"Each experience with you is another flower in our bouquet." Our. The word reverberates through my mind. "It doesn't matter if I wasn't the first to pick it," he goes on. "What matters is that you'll allow me the honor of sharing it with you. This weekend, I'd like to work on our bouquet."
Our bouquet is growing. The flowers are multiplying at unknown rates. Each one is different—unique. The boundary between reality and make-believe is blurring. Soon, the vase with our flowers will overflow and shatter.
"And," I admit, "it was everything. Everything I've never wanted."
