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I felt like I’d been waiting a very long time for someone who knew how to shatter me and also wanted to pick up all the pieces.
everything about him was stale white bread. That was it. He was
bland and boring, and righteous in his flavorlessness.
the absence of a plan was the plan. Survive one day to the next. No sudden moves. Expect the worst. Plan for nothing.
but what if I’d talked myself into loving Noah? What if I was repeating all my same old mistakes?
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I just don’t like failing at things. I want a do-over.” “You want a do-over marriage?”
it looks like two are pulling an REO Speedwagon taking it on the run.
There was a time when I believed I was free. I was independent. I was unencumbered by the gridlock of family expectations or tradition.
The problem with that level of freedom was that it was all sky and no earth.
It reminded me of home. Or something vaguely familiar as vague familiarity is my only threshold for considering something home.
“Yes, doll, you do. You let him love you.
give yourself permission to trust big, amazing, scary things.
Love like this couldn’t be cornered, it couldn’t be contrived. It was real and it wasn’t about rescuing each other.
