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“It’s not that I believe everything happens for a reason,” she said. “It’s just that . . . I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It’s the universe’s way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It’s how life is.”
“But if everything was always smooth and perfect,” she continued, “you’d get too used to that, you know? You have to have a little bit of disorganization now and then. Otherwise, you’ll never really enjoy it when things go right.
For any one of us our forever could end in an hour, or a hundred years from now. You can never know for sure, so you’d better make every second count.”
“What you have to decide,” Kristy said to me, leaning forward, “is how you want your life to be.
If your forever was ending tomorrow, would this be how you’d want to have spent it?”
But it was okay not to fit in everywhere, as long as you did somewhere.
Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, to how it holds you to a place.
Just because someone’s pretty doesn’t mean she’s decent. Or vice versa. I’m not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting.”
Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that’s what makes you strong.”
But if something was really important, fate made sure it somehow came back to you and gave you another chance.
Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really all about. It was twenty minutes, or a hundred years, or just this instant, or any instant I wished would last
and last. But there was only one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening. Right then, as I ran with Wes into that bright sun, and every moment afterwards. Look, there. Now. Now. Now.
