Maybe Someday (Maybe, #1)

by Colleen Hoover

My entire body is battling itself. My left brain is telling me this is somehow wrong, my right brain is wanting to hear her sing again, my stomach is nowhere to be found, and my heart is punching itself in the face with one arm and hugging itself with the other.

I assumed that maybe someday, when I was ready, things could have developed between us.

Desire is easy to fight. Especially when the only weapon desire possesses is attraction. It’s not so easy when you’re trying to win a war against the heart.

I’m worried that feelings are the one thing in our lives that we have absolutely no control over.

I’m convinced that people come across others in life whose souls are completely compatible with their own. Some refer to them as soul mates. Some refer to it as true love. Some people believe their souls are compatible with more than one person, and I’m beginning to understand how true that might be.

There isn’t a doubt in my mind that we could be perfect for each other’s life, Sydney. It’s our lives that aren’t perfect for us.

We’re just two completely confused souls, scared of a much unwanted yet crucial good-bye.

Sometimes in life, we need a few bad days in order to keep the good ones in perspective.”

It always feels as though you’re trying to be my lifeguard. I don’t need a lifeguard, Ridge. I need someone who is willing to watch me brave the ocean and then dare me not to drown. But you wouldn’t be able to let me near the ocean. It’s not your fault that you can’t give me that.”

I don’t know why I’m trying to hide my reaction from him, but isn’t that what people do? We try so hard to hide everything we’re really feeling from those who probably need to know our true feelings the most. People try to bottle up their emotions, as if it’s somehow wrong to have natural reactions to life.

“It’s you,” he says aloud. “My heart… wants you.”

However, I’ve learned that the heart can’t be told when and who and how it should love. The heart does whatever the hell it wants to do. The only thing we can control is whether we give our lives and our minds the chance to catch up to our hearts.

There are only twenty-six letters in the English alphabet. You would think there would only be so much you could do with twenty-six letters. You would think there were only so many ways those letters could make you feel when mixed up and shoved together to make words.

However, there are infinite ways those twenty-six letters can make a person feel,