The Rest of the Story

Life is big and huge and scary. But you have to go and take your part of it. There’s a reason the saying is ‘Seize the day,’ not ‘Wait for it to come along at some point.

You can make your life, or life can make you. Was it really that simple of a choice?

There is always the rest of the story, right? Even if you don’t know right now what it is.

A life isn’t just the pages you know, it’s everything.

No matter where you are, home or the strangest of places, everyone wants to look like they know where they’re going.

After loving someone you couldn’t depend on, you realize how important it is to trust someone will do what they say. It’s such a simple thing, not to promise what you can’t or won’t deliver. But my mom had done that all the time.

To summer, and to us.

Even when words fail me, you never do.

There were lots of ways to love someone, I guessed, both by remembering and forgetting.

Roo had seen something in it, and recognized a part of me that matched. How could someone know you better than yourself? Especially if they really didn’t know you, not at all.

Because in the summers, the world came back to the lake,” she’d reply. “And that was when it felt like home.

Of course he'd think I'd want to be apart of this: I was here, too. But all my life I'd felt more like an observer than an active participant. Beside the wheel, not behind. It was safer there, but could be lonely too, or so I was now realizing. Maybe there was a middle ground between living too hard and living at all. Maybe, here, I was finding it.

Sometimes even the shortest distance can be impossible to navigate, whether you went road or shore or some other route.

The past was always present, in its way, and you can’t help but remember. Even if you can’t remember at all.

If life is a journey, wouldn’t you rather be the person behind the wheel than the one just being carried along?

I was here, too. But all my life I felt like an observer than an active participant. It was safer there but could be lonely too, or so I was now realizing. Maybe there was a middle ground between living too hard and living at all. Maybe, here, I was finding it.

After loving someone you couldn't depend on, you realize how important it is to trust someone will do what they say.

Parents are always precious. But when you only have one, they become crucial.

The past was always present, in its way, and you can't help but remember. Even if you can't remember at all.

Cuando solo eres pasajero nunca tienes el control. Te llevan desde el punto A hasta el punto B sin que exista voluntad ni esfuerzo de tu parte. Es como ir a la deriva. Si la vida es un viaje, ¿no prefieres ser la persona que va sentada al volante antes que la que es transportada de un sitio a otro?

But all my life I’d felt more like an observer than an active participant. Beside the wheel, not behind. It was safer there, but could be lonely too, or so I was now realizing. Maybe there was a middle ground between living too hard and living at all. Maybe, here, I was finding it.

But then, Roo did something different. He reached forward with one hand, sliding my fallen strap back up on my shoulder. It was a simple gesture, but like earlier, with the corsage, I felt my heart catch in my chest. Once the strap was fixed, he left his hand there, fingers spread cool over my skin. Like a take two, second chance. The kind you don’t get often. Maybe this was why I stepped a little closer, lifting my chin as I looked up at him. His eyes widened a bit, but he stayed where he was. “Hey!” someone yelled from the water. “What are you guys doing up there?