More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
If you’re looking for a light, happy romance with a perfect ending, then this may not be the book for you. It deals with realistic situations and traumas.
He would be a part of me. I would be a part of him.
The darkness hid my imperfections. I was perfect, with minimal visibility.
In a world short of love, I had to be wanted. I was wanted. I felt wanted. Never loved, no. But I was wanted.
I was never good at saying much.
I longed for her to touch me again.
By the time I got back home, it was late and I huddled into bed, drifting off to a list of paintings I could only hope she compared me to.
I said, “I’m a little too old for help.” What I really meant was, “Save me.”
Why would he leave me if he loved me?
I chose neither. I chose Blu. A part of me died that day. Her name was Beatrice Louise Henderson.
I needed to know him.
Best not dwell on the parts of your story you couldn’t rewrite.
Must be nice, I thought. To enjoy things without looking too deeply as to why you enjoyed them, why they existed – why they made you happy.
He thinks I’m pretty. He thinks I’m pretty. He thinks I’m pretty.
I saw myself in her. Lost. Neglected. Sad.
Sometimes two people, completely opposite and far apart were tied by an invisible chord.
It sounded dramatic, but when you had nothing, the people you gave yourself to filled the void that was left stripped and barren.
Pain became comfort, and that comfort was bliss.
You value love over everything, even in the absence of it.”
If not a date, then a hookup. If not a hookup, then a meet-and-greet. If not me, then who? Who was she out with?
Scott took his eyes off the screen for a split second to address me. Little did he know that meant the whole world and more.
Men didn’t respond to desperation. They responded to silence.
I just want you to know you deserve better than what you’re putting yourself through.”
“I barely know this guy, he ghosts me and I throw a hissy fit like some sad girl who got broken up with by her fiancé of twelve years.”
Good enough to fuck,” I stated. “Not good enough to love,” I accepted.
There was almost a bittersweet taste to an unhappy ending. Everyone knew it was coming, but was still unprepared. I thought I’d feel great, but I felt worse.
Of course it didn’t last, because nothing ever did for me.
I feel like I’m waiting for someone to understand me, and no one ever does.”
No one had ever paid attention to me before. Not like this. Not ever. “Jace –” “I understand you,” he whispered. “I understand you.”
Tonight, I was Spiderman. Tonight I saved the world. Tomorrow, I’d be Jace Boland. The man who wished the world would save him.
“Love yourself more.”
I left. I loved myself. I loved my – I loved… I hated myself.
Maybe you really are Spiderman.” “Maybe you can be my Mary Jane.”
This time, he leaned back, removing his hand from my skin. I craved it. I felt empty without it. I wanted his touch again.
“Stop assuming that you know how I feel. You’re hurting yourself at this point.”
Maybe the fat would have dripped out of me like honey, that was my first thought. It didn’t. I got a bumblebee tattoo instead.
This time I wasn’t admiring her beauty. This time, I was figuring out ways to spare her heart.
“I don’t know you well enough.” He swallowed. “Because every time you try to, you get afraid. Like, you think I’m some bad person, that I’m going to fuck with you and hurt you or something. We can’t keep doing this dance.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I swore. For the first time, I truly believed it. But sometimes, belief isn’t enough. And sometimes, all the time, I wish I were a better man to have kept my promises.
Smile more, Blu. You have a nice smile.”
Don’t do this again. Don’t fall in too deep with someone you barely know.
He’s only saying these things to get a reaction. He’s only complimenting you because he’s in a good mood. You’re nothing special, don’t ever fucking think you are.
Wherever his eyes would lead me, storm or shore, I’d follow.
It should be illegal to look like that.
After all, when you liked someone, everything they did became attractive. Nothing could put you off, nothing could shift the pedestal you placed them on. That was the problem. That was always my problem.
Jace wasn’t mine. And if he wanted to be, he would be.
I’d never hurt Blu. Not intentionally.
Minutes passed, maybe hours. I felt lighter, freer; maybe I’d lost weight while crying. One could only hope.
I knew nothing about Jace Boland, other than the truth I knew about everyone else. They’d always leave.
I couldn’t love her. I didn’t know how to love myself.
