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Of course it hurts", she grumbled, tipping my head further back. "Life sucks. Get over it
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You just looked..." she said, searching for the word, "taken, you know? Plus you hardly reacted to Wes. I mean, you did alittle, but nothing like most girls. It was a little swoon. Not a sa-woon, you know?" I said, "Sa-woon? Oh, come on," she said shaking her head. "Even a blind girl could tell he is amazing.
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All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.
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My sister, who never understood most of the things I wanted her to, might have been able to understand what had happened to me in this summer of weddings and beginnings. And she was right. The first boy was always the hardest.
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It took a lot of work to be perfect. If you didn’t want to break a sweat, there was no point in even bothering.
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Growing up means :propelling yourself forward into whatever lies ahead, one turn of the wheel at a time.
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How fast were you?" Wes asked me. I said, "Not that fast." "You mean you couldn't... fly?" he said, smiling at me.
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Nothing like being scolded by a hippie.
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It was just one of those things," I said, "You know, that just happen. You don't think or plan. You just do it.
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So I left him there alone to watch history repeat the same events retold again and again on his own.
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At the same time, though, I was beginning to wonder if this was just how it was supposed to be for me, like perhaps I wasn't capable of having that many people in my life at any one time. My mom turned up, Nate walked away, one door opening as another clicked shut.
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I took his wildness from him and tried to fold it into myself, filling up the empty spaces all those second place finishes left behind.
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"What was the name of Pygmalion's sister?" She blinked, twice, obviously surprised. "Ummm," she said, keeping her eyes on me. "I don't know." Rogerson did," I told her. "Rogerson knew everything."
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…You don’t want the best of times to be just one thing, forever. You have to have a lot of bests of times, each one topping the last. You know?
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Quiet and incredible. I really envy that.
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No," I snapped. "I mean, no. I'm answering. I'm just collecting my response." Another few seconds passed. Is there a time limit for this?" he asked. I shot him a look. "Just wondering.
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Everything looks different when you're older, not staring up at the world but down upon it.
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Outside, the ocean was crashing, waves hitting sand, then pulling back to sea. I thought of everything being washed away, again and again. We make such messes in this life, both accidentally and on purpose. But wiping the surface clean doesn't really make anything neater. It just masks what is below. It's only when you really dig down deep, go underground, that you can see who you really are.
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I seriously doubt that the Santa police do an underwear check." -Cora
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You can't act like you care about someone but not let them care about you.
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Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.
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For once, you believed in yourself. You believed you were beautiful and so did the rest of the world.
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Clearly, sharing something could take you a long way, or at least to a different place than you'd planned. Like a friendship or a family, or even jsut alone on a curb on a Saturday, trying to get your bearings as best you can.
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I was running from one problem or place to another, with no time left to study, or sleep, or just breathe. I felt pulled in all directions, fighting to keep all these obligations circling in the air above me. It was only a matter of time before something fell.