You, Again

by Kate Goldbeck

Sometimes it’s not until she encounters genuine parental affection that she recognizes the utter lack of it in her life. It hurts more to fill the cavity than to leave it empty.

Maybe being in love is knowing that you’d live it all over again—every part, suffering included—to get right back to the place where you’re standing.

Maybe there’s no such thing as soulmates. Maybe there are only people who trust each other enough to begin something without being assured of the end.