Spells for Lost Things

by Jenna Evans Welch

But explaining the giant mess that is my head to anyone, even Bea, feels impossible.

Not only is this random new place most definitely not my home; my real home is a person who I haven’t been able to see in years.

I know it isn’t that he doesn’t care; it’s that his capacity always seems to be completely maxed.

Also, they clearly have no idea what it feels like to be separated from the one person you’re meant to be with. It’s like I’m walking around without one of my vital organs.

a girl who bloomed too big for the space the world had carved out for her.

He’s staring at me like I’m the shiniest object in the night sky.

having her full attention is like staring into the sun.

The box weighs a thousand emotional pounds,

Their souls had been patterned from the same materials.

dreaming of faraway gardens dripping with blossoms and scents she’d only read about—jasmine and saffron, enormous lotuses blooming in crystal pools in marble palaces. She dreamed of large halls and libraries where she’d learn the names of every plant, studying the way they fit into the world.

the soundtrack of all the night insects chirping fills my ears.

Wow i miss summer so bad :'(

We’re the kind of people who struggle and suffer.

all good kids make bad decisions sometimes.”