“We’re always looking for that missing piece in ourselves,” said Jungian analyst Jacqueline Wright. “That ideal lover or person that we’re looking for holds a quality that we don’t recognize or express in ourselves.”—Lisa A. Phillips, Unrequited. Highlighted
When we’re caught up in unsatisfied desire, we can write the story of our love ... This is fundamentally a creative act, often full of pleasure at first ... yet being together means facing reality, which will probably fall short of the self-centered fantasy.—Lisa A. Phillips, Unrequited. Highlighted
God, his chin. She wanted to make an honest woman of his chin. She wanted to lock it down.—Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl. Highlighted
Of course he didn’t want to discuss what had just happened. Because nothing had happened. We shook hands. I imagined the rest.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
I could feel his breath, his heart, which was beating too hard and too fast for him to be sleeping.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
My first thought should be How kind, but instead I think, How dare you.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
I wanted a fix. A hit. A tiny little taste of you. Instead, I feel like a spider in an empty web, waiting for vibrations that never come. A single strum on one silk strand would do. A gentle hum in the gossamer. But all is quiet. All is still. And another lonely week looms large.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
had I not been struck by the upside-down image of my frilly ankle socks, once white, now turning bright red. Like a cartoon animal who doesn’t fall until they notice that the ground is gone, the sight of my own blood made me suddenly aware of the searing pain in my heels. I tore off my shiny black shoes and peeled the blood-soaked socks from my feet before righting myself and continuing my search barefoot.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
It’s even more difficult to talk about you in the past tense because you’re technically still here. Here as in alive, obviously, not here in this house.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
And this, I’ve just now decided, is maybe harder than death. With death there’s no option to call someone, to hear them laugh, to see or touch or hold them again. There’s no decision to be made. No temptation to resist. Choosing to be apart is its own special kind of torture. It means making that choice over and over again. Every moment of every day. And some days the choice doesn’t seem as clear.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
are the moments we remember most actually the moments we remember least?—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
No. They’re teeth. Followed by a clump of slimy liquorice hair.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
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