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Anything to be my friend. It was then I discovered that there is a pecking order in life, and appearances play a role in that hierarchy. In other words, I understood at the tender age of three that with beauty come perks and power.
then shared some theory about how little boys are encouraged to be smart and funny while little girls are praised for being cute. She called this a “dangerous trap” for girls and said it can lead to “empty women.”
I realize that I made everything about appearances. But at the time, I honestly didn’t think I was hurting anyone, not even myself. I didn’t think much at all, in fact.
Although in truth I think the threshold test of whether you have cheated is rather clear: if your partner could see a video of the event, would he or she think you had cheated? An alternative test is: if you could see a video of your partner in the identical situation, would you think he or she had cheated?
having a secret—even a little one—creates a bond between two people.
‘I don’t know what to tell you.’ Translation: ‘It’s not my problem and I really don’t give a shit.’”
Three weeks ago, they were the people that I knew the best. My best friend and my fiancé. Now they seemed like strangers or estranged loved ones whom I hadn’t heard from in years.
The opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference.
“First impressions are last impressions” was one of my father’s favorite expressions.
But instead he said, “Yes. I love her.” I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t saying it to be mean; he was saying it out of a sense of loyalty to her. It was that committed, resolute look of his.
As I studied her big, fake smile, the exact contours of our shallow friendship came into focus.
He told me that history wasn’t clutter. “Clutter is knowing all of the things that you absorb through your fashion magazines. Clutter is knowing which celebrities broke up with whom and why.”
That is one of the problems with getting older. There is a distinct lag time between how you see others and how you view yourself.
“You were the star of the show in high school. The star of the show in college. The star of the show in Manhattan. And Rachel let you shine. Now you can’t step back and be happy for her.”
“I’ll tell you why it’s relevant, Darcy. I’ll tell you exactly why. You have always competed with Rachel. From way back in the day until now. Everything has always been a contest with you. And part of what’s eating you up inside is that Dex picked Rachel. He picked her over you.”
You can only control your own actions. Not other people’s reactions.”
It suddenly occurred to me that no matter when his affair with Rachel had begun, she hadn’t been the cause of our breakup. Dex and I had split because we weren’t right for each other, and because of that fact, he had been able to fall in love with her. Had we been on solid ground, Dex wouldn’t have cheated on me. The realization was somehow freeing, and it enabled me to let go of another sliver of resentment toward both of them.
Fucking FINALLY.
But I wasn’t in love with him. It was that simple. The concept of being with a man strictly for love used to seem naïve and high-minded, the kind of thing I used to scoff at Rachel for saying, but now I subscribed to the notion too.
As much as I wanted to hold them responsible, I knew that I was not blameless. We were all accountable. We had all lied and cheated. But despite everything, I knew we were still good people. We all deserved a second chance, a chance to be happy.
I waited for a wave of jealousy or bitterness to hit me. Or at least a healthy dose of wistfulness. Instead, I felt the way I do when I read about a celebrity wedding in People. Interested in the details, but not wholly invested in it.
It was love as a verb, as Rachel used to say. Love that made me more patient, more loyal, and stronger. Love that made me feel more complete than I had ever felt in my glamorous, Jimmy Choo–filled past.
Love and friendship. They are what make us who we are, and what can change us, if we let them.
