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She was hurting. And I didn’t want her to hurt anymore. I don’t want her to hurt ever.
“The deeper you love, the deeper the risk of disappointment, and hurt, and loss. The more you care, the more pain you might face.
“Fear of failure, fear of not living up to these standards you hold yourself to, which sound pretty damn high. Because…well, have you ever considered that the depth of feeling for the subject is the reason you’re the very best person to paint it?”
“I know they did their best, and I know, in their way, they love me. But sometimes people love you their best, and it’s still not enough.”
Reading about people who look and live and speak so differently from us, yet struggle like we do with their inner demons and outside forces, fight for love in their friendships and families and the people they’ve fallen for, reminds us that not only romantic love, but familial and platonic and sacrificial love is universal, and romance is timeless, that there’s a love story for anyone out there who wants one.”
With the right person, love is possible for any of us who want it.”
“Reading a book is just like opening your heart to someone. You won’t know if you’ll connect until you try.”
And that’s the best kind of friendship, isn’t it? Friendship that lets laughter and tears hold hands, where grief and gratitude can be friends, not enemies.
“Because I…I think I missed you. Because I hate kissing, but I love it when it’s you, and that means something. I don’t know what, and I wish I knew more, but I do know this,”
“I want to kiss you so badly, it’s obliterated every other thought in my brain. There’s nothing but wanting it. Wanting you.”
‘More’ hasn’t even entered our minds. And it won’t, thank you very much.”
I love it when they're oblivious idiots.
What I feel for Rooney is lust. Desire. Plain, simple want. That and some weird-as-hell heartburn. That’s the logical answer.
Aww he thinks he doesn't have feelings for her.
Then her eyes meet mine. Her smile widens. The worst ache yet hits me, a line drive straight to the heart.
This is the world’s worst heartburn.
Putting the 'com' in 'romcom'.
Playlist: “In the Waiting,” Kina Grannis
That’s when I know. When every question I had is answered, and I know this twisting, aching, terrible, beautiful something that’s grown and deepened inside me for weeks is a feeling, and that feeling is all for her, and it’s nothing like I’ve ever felt for anyone. And that feeling…is love.
That’s what they are, the circumstances that led her here, that made us collide and our paths converge…not mistakes, even though they felt like it, but the happiest accidents. The ones that gave me her.
Who knew love would be so complicated. Her hand slips inside mine, and every thought dissolves. Maybe love isn’t complicated, then. Maybe love is simple. Maybe it’s people who make it complicated. Maybe I can just be—here, now, touching her, lost to this moment and every moment I get with her. Maybe that can be enough.
Then, in the safety of another language, I whisper against her hair, He’d wait forever.
It's a 10/10, a five star read.
She glances my way and catches me staring at her. “You’re not watching the sunrise,” she says. “No.” A blush stains her cheeks as she smiles faintly, her expression perplexed. “You love sunrises.” “I love you more.”
“But most of all…I want to be with you forever. Not just for a whirlwind month. Not even until death do us part. I want every day, cramming as many lifetimes as possible into the one we’ve been given because finding you thirty years into my existence and only getting one chance to love you isn’t nearly enough.”
