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Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.
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One of my favorite authors is Robert Cormier. He was a devout Catholic and a very nice man, which might not be the impression you get from reading his books.
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Sometimes rescue comes to you. It just shows up, and you do nothing. Maybe you deserve it, maybe you don't. But be ready, when it comes, to decide if you will take the outstretched hand and let it pull you ashore.
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When the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.
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and i don't just mean that they change you. a lot of people can change you - the first kid who called you a name, the first teacher who said you were smart, the first person who crowned you best friend. it's the change you remember, the firsts and what they meant, not really the people......i'm talking about the ones who, for whatever reason, are as much a part of you has your own soul. their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business.
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Some people come into your life and leave a mark.
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It's a jagged thing in my throat, how much I miss her.
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Sitting and waiting for something to happen was the worst kind of torture.
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I lived too much in my head instead of the real world.
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When the reader and one narrator know something the other narrator does not, the opportunities for suspense and plot development and the shifting of reader sympathies get really interesting.
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We'd need a miracle," he says. "A real one. Do you think those happen anymore?
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Because love, love never finishes.