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do believe in destiny. Specifically, in our power over it.
Nobody has ever known who I am.
you need to be the happy ending. You have to earn it.
proof that love really can conquer all.
Connor always made sure I was part of his world.
“We’ll figure this out. We always do.”
my mom’s the one who started it all. The original Knight.
“You know where to find me.”
didn’t follow any road maps, but made her own.
unfamiliar relief that comes with being alone and wandering at my own pace.
there’s infinite space out here, enough that for once I don’t need to worry about making myself fit.
you have to forge your own path.”
important it is as a reader to see herself in the characters, for everyone to be able to see themselves in stories.
My mom’s general rule was that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.
I never set an alarm because my entire life I’ve been wired to wake up at 7 A.M. on the dot, like a human sundial.
Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Keeping him at arm’s length so he can’t get close enough.
Never fully letting him in so he never gets another chance to leave.
She was far from conventional, and she was beloved for it.
as a kid I felt limitless, like there was so much potential in the future that I could run in any direction and never meet the edge of it.
at our cores we’re all more alike than we think. Hung up on the same worries, wishing on the same stars.
the stubbornness of the way he cares.
uneasy with something else—at the feeling of being taken care
“Writing is just something I do to pass the time.”
A weight I’ve been carrying so long that it feels strange to be here now, about to do something with it for the first time.
It sounds ridiculous, but I’m almost scared.
The faster I move, the more I keep busy, the easier it is to ignore.
I’m not sure why I keep coming out here. Maybe I thought if I let myself feel it, the fear would go away. Or at the very least, become something I could better understand.
“I’m not worried. I’m sure it’ll work itself out.” I
“I wish I could be there,”
“I really miss you.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“We’ve all got stuff we’re going through. Seems like we could all use an extra friend now and then.”
There’s a specific kind of grief that comes with losing someone you love,
the kind so universal that you can’t help recognizing it in someone else, even if you don’t know what you’re seeing yet.
He’s trusting me with his own hurt.
tell him the truth—a truth I didn’t know existed until he just made so much space for it.
A truth I don’t understand well enough to explain.
there is a part of me that genuinely enjoys giving advice and ...
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it’s something I feel good doing. Something that most of the time, I excel at.
just makes me happy, knowing there are things that can be fixed.
able to help take a problem off someone’s plate.”
maybe I can’t fix anything. But maybe it would help just to talk about it.”
And it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t undo what happened.”
Doesn’t mean things are fixable.”
“Maybe it’s just a matter of being ready.”
There are just some things beyond help.”
I realize it’s been a long time since I’ve really hugged anybody.
don’t want to have to ask. I want him to care enough to have read them and brought it up himself.
an opportunity. A beginning.

