The Heart Principle (The Kiss Quotient, #3)

by Helen Hoang

I don’t question why people do things. I just observe and copy. That’s how to get along in this world.

I do wonder if she’s acting just like I am. How much of what people say is genuine and how much is politeness? Is anyone really living their life or are we all reading lines from a giant script written by other people?

Family is not safe. Not for me. Tough love is brutally honest and hurts you to help you. Tough love cuts you when you’re already bruised and berates you when you don’t heal faster.

I’ve always been better at dealing with other people’s problems. I even like it. It feels good to help people.

By changing myself, I earned a sense of belonging. But maybe I belonged all along. Just with a different group of people.

I felt understood in a way I’ve never been before. I felt seen, the real me, and accepted.

The more I learn, the more certain I am that this is me. This is where I belong.

I told her because I yearned for her to understand me. But it’s never been more clear how much she doesn’t.

The thing with feelings is they pass. Hearts aren’t designed to feel anything too intensely for too long, be it joy, sorrow, or anger. Everything passes in time. All colors fade.

I’ve tucked his I love you into my heart, where I can carry it forever, safe and treasured.

What I would really like is a lobotomy. I don’t want to feel anymore. I would give up all the joy in my life so that I didn’t have to feel the way I do right now.

What they see is not who I am. It’s the mask that they love, the mask that’s suffocating me.

I don’t think I would survive doing this again.

He’s still alive, but I lost him months ago. Perhaps I’ve been mourning all this time without realizing it.

I fucking felt this deep in my chest.

When I realize I’m headed south on the 101, I’m not surprised that I’m going straight to her. My compass always points to her.

Loss grips me, but it’s muted, perhaps because I’ve already mourned him so many times by now.

No one wants to be seen as “complaining,” and no one wants to make a loved one feel like they’re a burden. But the truth is caregiving is hard. Not everyone is suited for it.