Lovelight Farms (Lovelight, #1)

by B.K. Borison

And isn’t it silly, to love the way someone’s things look like next to yours? Little bits and pieces of a life lived in parallel.

“Just because you let yourself love someone, doesn't mean they’re going to leave.”

Ah, but that is the scary part, isn’t it?

I’m coming with you. We’ve been friends for almost ten years, La La. Stop keeping score.”

Stop. Keeping. Score. 👏🏼

I’ve never gotten to keep anyone.

She’s intimidating in the way all good teachers are—quiet, knowing, and sure. She’ll let you know when you’re not reaching your full potential, and then hug you through it.

But as soon as he realizes, he bottles it back up. Tucks away the memories piece by piece until they don’t hurt as badly. I do the same thing with my mom, in a way. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, when that constant ache turns into pain so sharp it steals your breath.

I’ve loved Luka for so long it feels like it’s a part of me, but I’m also used to hiding it—suppressing it—and that feels like a part of me too.

It’s hard to love someone without restraint. To give yourself over to the swell and pull of it without fear of what might happen. I think it’s only natural to hold a part of yourself back and protect what you can.

I’m going to love her in all the quiet ways, the slow ways, the loud and obnoxious ways.