Lisey's Story

by Stephen King

Where do you go when you’re lonely? Where do you go when you’re blue? Where do you go when you’re lonely? I’ll follow you When the stars go blue.

time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.

Broken glass in the morning, broken hearts at night.

then sometimes a day would come, a gray one (or a sunny one) when she missed him so fiercely she felt empty, not a woman at all anymore but just a dead tree filled with cold November blow. She felt like that now, felt like hollering his name and hollering him home, and her heart turned sick with the thought of the

years ahead and she wondered what good love was if it came to this, to even ten seconds of feeling like this.

She awoke in the deepest ditch of the night, when the moon is down and the hour is none.

You’re good for the ones you love. You want to be good for the ones you love, because you know that your time with them will end up being too short, no matter how long it is.

There was a lot they didn’t tell you about death, she had discovered, and one of the biggies was how long it took the ones you loved most to die in your heart. It’s a secret, Lisey thought, and it should be, because who would ever want to get close to another person if they knew how hard the letting-go part was?