“I have to ask. Why do you like me?”
He shifted away from me then, his brows pulled together making him look even cuter, if that was possible. “I don’t understand the question.” His hands were squeezing mine tightly as he looked down at them. “You’re my Lilly. You’ve always been my Lilly.”
“I dream of you. And I don’t like it when I can’t talk to you or see you or touch you.” His eyes found mine again. “That’s love.”
“This emptiness inside of me here,” he placed my hand on his chest, “means I love you. When you’re not here, I can’t focus. It’s too loud . . . But my heartbeat does this when you’re close.”
“Maybe if we stopped trying to achieve movie standards of greatness, we'd be happy with what we have.”
“I think sometimes we’re presented with the truth but we don’t want to believe it. We see things the way we want to see them. Sometimes, we choose to live in denial.”
“FRIENDSHIP: A true friend is one soul in two bodies – Aristotle.”
“With a small sigh he squeezed my hand tighter. “I wish you were like me.”
“No,” he whispered. “You’re my beautiful Lilly. The one who makes everything right in my world.”
“Talking with you would be much more enjoyable than talking with Talia, Lilly.” His eyes scanned the floor by my feet. “She’s paint by number; you’re a watercolor.”
“I don’t believe there’s such a thing as conventional love. Love is bending. Love is breaking. Love is constantly learning about the other person until you go crazy because it will never be perfect, but there’s no fault in trying. I’ve loved a boy who was extraordinary beyond words, in my eyes.”
“I do . . . love you. If you needed me to say it before you should have told me so. I know what it means.”
“Life is meant to be lived, and if you're offered the chance to experience things with an extraordinary person, then there isn't one reason in the world to say no.”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” And then he looked at me and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a sly smile. “They taught us that tonight to help us blend in with our peers.”
“I’m sorry. Was that gross?” I asked, wanting to melt into the floor and just die. He shook his head slowly and then looked at me for a second. “I’d like to try this after you’ve brushed your teeth.”
“She’s paint by number; you’re a watercolor.”
“You’re my beautiful Lilly. The one who makes everything right in my world.”
“It was those words that made me fall in love with him. Right there in that spot. Because he wanted me to be like him. That was his normalcy.”
“I used to think there were two kinds of Crayola artists: Ones who color inside the lines and ones who don’t stay within the rigid boundaries set by thick black perimeters that make up a cuddly koala. But it seems that inside and outside the lines is just the main basis for comparison. You also have those who color lightly inside and fill each space according to the chosen and appropriate shade. Then you have those who scribble and slap any color anywhere. And sometimes these people have purple turkeys and shit that drives me absofreakinglutely crazy because, seriously”
“You were upset. I hurt you. Something must have happened to make you stay away from me. Is that right?” His nose was pressed under my ear and I fought back another round of tears because he just didn’t fully grasp it. He could have been repeating Sheila’s words for all I knew.
“You’re leaving.”
“Am I your girlfriend?” “Of course.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.”
“You’d like to think it’s a choice to love him, but it’s not, Lilly. You’ve already decided. I can see it on your face.”
“Lilly. Sometimes I don’t think I have the capacity to be what you need in a significant other.”
“Sometimes change makes you sit up and pay attention, opening your eyes to so many new things, it’s as if you’d been asleep for”
“I promise that love isn't easy for anyone. Anywhere.”
“want to ask you a question.” He nodded. “Take me to the dance next weekend.” He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “Lilly, that was not in the form of a question. A question is a request that ends with a question mark. What you just said was a statement.”
“Society has pretty much taught us that it's inside the lines, or outside. But there's so much more in between.”
“But life isn't really about just geting by. Right when you've lulled yourself into a false sense of security, it likes to throw in a plot twist. Keep you on your toes.”
“Nothing works,” he started, his hands kneading my sides as he tried again. “I try. And try. But nothing works. I can’t focus. I can’t . . . I can’t.”
“I have to ask. Why do you like me?” He shifted away from me then, his brows pulled together making him look even cuter, if that was possible. “I don’t understand the question.” His hands were squeezing mine tightly as he looked down at them. “You’re my Lilly. You’ve always been my Lilly.”
“Where is everything?’ Kendall and I chorused.”
“...every now and then I watched him beam at Olivia. He obviously adored her. And I realized that meeting her father made me look at Olivia differently. She was somebody's little girl.”
“Knowledge kills action; action requires the veils of illusion.”
“Certainly one quality which nowadays has been best forgotten—and that is why it will take some time yet for my writings to become readable—is essential in order to practise reading as an art—a quality for the exercise of which it is necessary to be a cow, and under no circumstances a modern man!—rumination. SILS-MARIA, UPPER ENGADINE, July, 1887.”
“Each of us has our own self-image, but what few realize, is that every person around us also possesses an image of us, no less real than our own. Every person close to us has a version of us in their hearts that no one else can replicate or replace.”
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