“Jared?” His fingers were playing gently in my curls.
“Yes?” I was more than halfway asleep, perfectly warm and content, back in my own bed. With him.
“Say it for me.”
“You’re heavy.”
“No.”
“You’re a manipulative bastard.”
“No.” He was laughing.
“You’re right.”
He gave one hard tug on my hair. “That’s not it either.”
“I love you?”
He sighed contentedly. “That’s the one.”
“The number of people who believe a thing has no bearing upon its truth.”
“I loved him. It was a painful realization - so painful that it took my breath away - discovering that I was totally in love with this man who would never love me back.”
“We walked in the door, and I was stunned by the sterile emptiness of the place. Most of the tiny living room was taken up by one of those giant strength-building home gyms you see on TV. In addition to that, there was one metal folding chair, an old wooden end table (being used as a coffee table, in front of the one chair), and a TV sitting on a milk crate. And it was the cleanest bachelor pad I had ever seen.
“Wow. Nice place. The prison cell motif is really working for you. Very feng shui.”
“you can’t control what others think. The only thing you can control is yourself. Some people will look down on you for your choices in life, no matter what they are. You can’t do anything about that. The only thing you can do is decide how to live your own life. And to hell with everybody else.”
“I have a sudden urge to pitch a tent in the back yard
tonight.”
“Jared?" His fingers were playing gently on my curls.
"Yes?" I was more than halfway asleep, perfectly warm, back in my own bed. With him.
"Say it for me."
"You're heavy."
"No."
"You're a manipulative bastard."
"No." He was laughing.
"You're right."
He gave one hard tug on my hair."That's not it either."
"I love you?"
He sighed contentedly. "That's the one.”
“Everybody wants something, and everybody expects something. They never ask how I'm doing or if I'm happy. They don't ask what I want.”
“None of them even know who they are. They're just acting out their roles. Being what their parents made them. Always trying to be what's expected. It's exhausting.”
“Our one employee came warily out of the back. He was always skittish with me, and if Lizzy wasn't around, h made a point of keeping his distance. I think he was expecting me to make a pass at him. He was seventeen, had stringy black hair,bad skin, and probably weighed a buck five soaked wet. I didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't my type.”
“Why is it their business? They expect me to go sit at their fucking picnic—alone—and watch them with their happy fucking little families, and I’m supposed to pretend like the one person in this town I give a damn about doesn’t even exist?” “Uh….” I couldn’t really think of anything to say to that. I couldn’t believe that he had said any of it and was pretty sure he wouldn’t have on any normal day. But it didn’t matter. He was still talking, and the pull on the back of my head had resumed.”
“I stood and let the feeling of that place fill me. I have often wondered if this was what religious people feel when they pray. It is a feeling of reverence and awe, serenity and belonging. The light breeze, the smell of the forest, the rushing water, the whispering leaves—they seem to fill me, like my soul is opening up and being swept clean. It is the only thing in my life I could call spiritual.”
“Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.”
“Perhaps if I make myself write I shall find out what is wrong with me.”
“These dreams reminded me that, since I wished some day to become a writer, it was high time to decide what sort of books I was going to write. But as soon as I asked myself the question, and tried to discover some subject to which I could impart a philosophical significance of infinite value, my mind would stop like a clock, my consciousness would be faced with a blank, I would feel either that I was wholly devoid of talent or perhaps that some malady of the brain was hindering its development.”
“That was when we smelled the rain. It was so strong it seemed like more than just a smell. When we stretched out our hands we could practically feel it rising up from the ground. I don’t know how a person could ever describe that scent.”
“After a steadying breath, Aislinn turned to Keenan. "I'm sure you can figure out lunch without help. So, umm, go make friends or whatever."
And she walked away.
He sped up to stay beside her as they entered the cafeteria. "May I join you?"
"No."
He stepped in front of her. "Please?"
"No." She dropped her bag into a chair next to Rianne's things. Ignoring him-and the stares they were attracting-she opened her bag.
He hadn't moved.
With a shaky gesture, she pointed. "The line's over there."
He looked at the throng slowly progressing to the vats of food. "Can I get you something?"
"A little space?"
A flare of anger flashed over his too-beatiful face, but he said nothing. He just walked away.”
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