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But she couldn't start this, because then it would end. Stories like this always ended. She couldn't take this pleasure, because she would spend the rest of her life missing it, hurting from it.
Which was just well: goodbyes had never been my strong suit anyway, and lately my life had felt like an unbroken series of them. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
No matter what she'd done in our past, I would always want her. I could turn away and show restraint a thousand times, and it would never lessen the hunger I had for that woman.
I hear a small voicein the back of my mindand it is chanting a prayer:‘Please don’t fall in love again, please don’t fall in love again.’Maybe this time I will listen.Maybe this I will learn.
What was it like to lose him?" Asked Sorrow. There was a long pause before I responded:It was like hearing every goodbye ever said tome—said all at once.
Women have rooms inside of us men cannot fathom. It’s where we store the depths of the hurt we’ve been dealt.Where we store the deep love we never want to lose.
Yet I am not writing with ordinary ink, but with red blood that dripsfrom my heart. All its wounds long scarred over have opened and itthrobs and hurts, and now and then a tear falls on the paper.
Only someone you loved could make you wear that kind of expression. Someone who had once loved you knew how to get to the part of you where the pain lived.
Falling in love is like leaping from a cliff. Your brain screams that it’s not a good idea and that hurt and pain will inevitably come to you. But yourheart believes you can soar, glide and fly.
To Sara's practised eye, this latest episode looked something like a broken heart, even if she'd never seen the look on him before. Or even imagined it happening. She wondered if he'd noticed yet.
He put his forehead against hers. “Alannah, my heart is yours.” He said softly.“And yet, I must hand it over to someone else for the keeping.” Her last words falling to a strained whisper.
If you really care about Charlotte, don't be afraid to tell her. Believe me, it will hurt her a lot more not hearing the words than it will hurt you to say them.
Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” I say.“No, I’m pretty sure you’re not all right.”He shakes his head. “I’m going to ask you not to make any decisions until we’ve talkedabout it.
My eyes were stinging, my body shaking, and my heart seemed to be just aching deep in my chest. (...)I should have let myself smash down the rocks. It would have hurt a whole lot less