Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

by Gabrielle Zevin

To return to the city of one’s birth always felt like retreat.

The way to turn an ex-lover into a friend is to never stop loving them, to know that when one phase of a relationship ends it can transform into something else.

You couldn’t be old and still be wrong about as many things as she’d been wrong about, and it was a kind of immaturity to call yourself old before you were.