Thank You for Listening

by Julia Whelan

Look, you want to give people something, give them the truth. Level with them.

“Playing dress-up occasionally is necessary.”

I swear, this old tackle box of a head is nothing more than tangled up lines, lures, and sinkers.

Cover up whatever you please for the world, but in intimacy? Hide nothing. In intimacy, everything is beautiful.

“Do they talk to each other in these Romance novels of yours or just get straight down to business?” “Of course there’s talking. Talking is foreplay. The other stuff doesn’t work without the talking.”

“Is this caffeine or cocaine?”

That’s my M.O.: do a lot of things a little.

‘The human voice is the thread that connects one soul to another. It’s as innate as the murmur of your mother’s voice as you nursed at her breast and as potent as your father’s words of approval. It is the conduit of all human expression. It is as elemental as life itself because it helps us love and be loved.’

“Everything feels fake, Mom. Like this is not my life. Like I’m acting my life. Like I’m playing out someone else’s, waiting to get mine back.”

She was beginning to glimpse how difficult she could make things. How she tended to see obstacles instead of answers. Why did she overcomplicate everything?

“It’s a surprise. Don’t you like surprises?” “Sure. Long as I know what they are.”

Feelings are temporary. They stick around as long as you believe in them and then they’re gone, waiting to be believed in again. If they were permanent, then we’d only have to say I love you once and be done with it for the rest of our lives.”

“I’m gonna be the old guy here and give you some blunt advice you didn’t ask for: Take the risk. Fail.” Stu turned to Sewanee. “And let regret come along for the ride.” He held up a finger. “A passenger, not the driver.”

Look, I loved my job, but I loved it so much my real life passed me by.

“Wouldn’t it be grand if we could have multiple lives to live? Do it a few different ways and then pick the best one?”

“Eventually, don’t know when, but eventually? You’re gonna have to stop thinking you’re nothing more than the damaged version of yourself.”

Feelings aren’t constant, they’re transient. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not. You can believe in them, but you can’t know them. How can you know what something is before it becomes it?

She saw failure and success, weakness and strength, and most of all, the longing for someone to love all of it.

This never stops being hard. Every time I win, I don’t dare think about what that win cost me.