An Optimist's Guide to Heartbreak (Heartsong, #1)

by Jennifer Hartmann

With a last name like Hope, one would assume I’d be the equivalent of a walking, talking sunbeam. All buoyant optimism and jaunty cheer. A light in the dark, harnessing a perpetual smile to go with such a name. Well, one would be right. I’m all of those things, even on my bad days…even on my worse days. Especially on my worse days.

That Ferris wheel will crumble and fall, turning to rubble at my feet. I don’t care.

I want to ask him a thousand questions that have nothing to do with the job. How are you? No, wait…who are you? Do you laugh the same? Hug the same? Do you still eat your cereal with chocolate milk?

When you care about someone, you worry about them, no matter what. That’s just the way it is.

“I just mean…not everything that makes us hurt needs to be forgotten or banished. It hurts because it mattered. And things that mattered once, will always matter,”

Vulnerability is a gateway to attachment. Once someone unearths all your scratched, damaged bits, there’s no hiding them away again. They’re just there, out in the open, every flaw and defect on display. You lose a sense of control—and whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, depends on the person doing the unearthing.

Things that make us sad aren’t all bad. Sometimes, sad things serve as a gentle reminder that we still feel.

Love can be a fulfilling, enchanting thing, but it can be a thief, too. It can drain you, suck you dry, strip you bare. I decided that I would never give it a taste. It wasn’t worth it.”