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D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Austin... and you. I'll be there soon.
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It was amazing how you could get so far from where you'd planned, and yet find it was exactly were you needed to be.
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An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.
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She was just a shell of her former self, functioning and talking but hardly alive.
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Like life isn't complicated enough. You should at least be able to follow the signs.
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Morgan sighed. "I," she announced, "am so pathetic." "You are not," I said. "I am." She went over and straightened the cling wrap, corner to corner. "Do you know how many times I've brought in devilled eggs? This is, like, the only time I haven't been sobbing and that's only 'cause I cried all night. And Norman," she said, her voice rising to a wail, "sweet Norman, always just acts so surprised to see the eggs, and pleased, and he never, once, has ever acted like he knew what they meant."
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Then I'd crawl back into bed, smelling her all around me, and tell myself that next time, I would lock that window. But I never did.
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How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.
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My experience is that sequels are rarely as good as the originals.
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Now, see," Wes said, nodding at my plate, "this is going to blow your mind." I looked at him. "It's a waffle, not the second coming.
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Lissa lowered her voice and added, "I might not even go to school anyway. I might defer and join the Peace Corps and go to Africa and shave my head and dig latrines." "Shave your head?" I said, because, really, this was the most ludicrous part of the whole thing. "You? Do you have any idea how ugly most people's bare heads are? They've got all kinds of bumps, Lissa. And you won't know until it's too late and you're flat-out bald.
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As Isabel acted out her date, both of them laughing, I stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and pretended she was telling me, too. And that, for once, I was part of this hidden language of laughter and silliness and girls that was, somehow, friendship.
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You don't have to say it out loud. I already know why you like me.' 'You do, huh?' 'Yep.' He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. 'So,' I said. 'Tell me' 'It's an animal attraction,' he said simply. 'Totally chemical.' 'Hmm,' I said. 'You could be right.' 'It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me.' 'No?' 'Nope.' His hands were in my hair now, and I was leaning in, not able to totally make out his face, but his voice was clear, close to my ear. 'Just that you do.
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I understood now. This voice, the one that had been trying to get my attention all this time, calling out to me, begging me to hear it - it wasn't Will's. It was mine.
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Don't give me no rotten tomato, 'cause all I ever wanted was your sweet potato.
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I was bored. Sad. Lonely. It was only a matter of time before I cracked.
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I was so thrilled that I was having a girl, because I just am so girly myself, but I think the teenage years are going to be very interesting.
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I was woundering what he would say, what word could sum me up right then, when i saw the lights come across his face, blaringly yellow, and suddenly he was brighter, and brighter, and i asked him what was happening, what was wrong. I remember only that light, so strong it spilled across my shoulders, and lit up his face, and how scared he looked as something big and loud hit my door, sending glass shattering across me, little sparks catching the light like diamonds, as they fell, with me, into the dark.
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Life is full of screwups. You're supposed to fail sometimes. It's a required part of the human existance.
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He was not my boyfriend. On the other hand, he wasn't just a friend either. Instead, our relationship was elastic, stretching between those two extremes depending on who else was around, how much either of us had to drink, and other varying factors. This was exactly what I wanted, as commitments had never really been my thing. And it wasn't like it was hard, either. The only trick was never giving more than you were willing to lose.
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Odd how it was so easy for a stranger to assume such familiarity. Especially when those who were supposed to know you best often didn't, not at all.
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And she was good to me: strong, fun, and fiercely loyal. And if I didn't have many other friends because of her-most girls were intimidated by her looks, or thought she was too pushy, or just flat-out feared for their boyfriends-it never bothered me. I never missed having a wide, thick circle of girlfriends: Rina was more than enough. We were comfortable with each other's flaws and weaknesses, so we stuck together and kept to ourselves.
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During this time we've been apart, it's you I've thought of when I'm at my weakest, and you who have pulled me through.
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I hadn't said goodbye. It had been easier, like always, to just disappear, sparing myself the messy details of another farewell. Now, my fingers hovered over my track pad, moving the cursor down to his comment section before I stopped myself. What was the point? Anything I said now would only be an afterthought. Elizabeth who goes by her middle name