from Waging War by April White:
"It is as though my purpose for living was just torn out of the book and I don't know what happens next."
"We take what happened and we make ourselves into people we can look at in mirrors without flinching."
from Days of Blood and Starlight by Laini Taylor:
"Perhaps Fate laid out your life for you like a dress on a bed, and you could either wear it or go naked."
from Dreams of Gods and Monsters by Laini Taylor:
"And he could catch her hand across the table just to hold it, and they could talk, and discover each other layer by layer."
discover each other layer by layer.
This is something I've only ever read about in books.
Someone meets their soulmate or the love of their life or maybe they just grow up with their best friend and they know everything there is to know about each other.
They talk and tell their secrets and fears, their hopes and dreams.
They talk, listen, understand. Laugh together, cry together, grow together. Inseparable.
For me, this is a frightening thought.
I don't know anyone so well that I know all about them; certainly no one knows everything there is to know about me.
Do I even have layers? Or is each layer discarded and forgotten as I grow past it?
If there are layers, do I want to open them up?
Why would I want to open them up?
Surely things I thought and did when I was five, ten, fifteen, couldn't possibly be worth telling about? Even if I could remember those days properly.
I've seen families who are close; even if they are states/countries apart, the connection is there.
Friends too, who grew up together, went their own ways, yet stayed in touch and remain steadfast friends no matter what. Always there for each other.
Sometimes I envy them. Most of the time I'm just happy for them, but knowing that I don't need that closeness.
But if I don't need it, why the occasional envy?
IF ANIMALS WERE ROUND or BEWARE OF KRISPY KREME
4 hours ago