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Sometimes I miss the old me.

Ann Aguirre

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Ann Aguirre
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: August 27
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Ellen Connor
Ava Gray
Miss
Missing
Sometimes

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Sometimes broken things heal crooked. The pieces didn’t fit anymore.
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I'm Sirantha Jax, and I have had enough.
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I’d never known it was possible to love as he did— with complete devotion yet devoid of promises.
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We’re bound by chains of love, but they don’t weigh us down. Instead, they allow us to be bigger and better than we are.
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I’ve lost so many people. Some I left on purpose and never looked back. Some were taken from me, and I never said good-bye.
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I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me that I didn’t choose to tell them.
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A good huntress respected her partners instincts, even if he was socially ignorant.
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If there had been another female for him since we arrived in Salvation, I needed to cut off all her hair and beat her half to death. The strength of that impulse scared me, and I took a step back. Deuce the girl was every bit as vicious as the Huntress, it seemed
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It’s easy to do right when everything goes right. But let everything go wrong, and see how difficult it becomes.
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Sometimes you find your heroes in the unlikeliest places.
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Caring too much could be dangerous I saw that now. But the alternative was no better.
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Through the damp fabric of my coverall, bundled in my blanket, I feel naked. Raw. He sees more than I want, more than I can bear. It’s like standing before him ... while he stares at my scars, pitiless and unmoved.
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You don’t need to be afraid of falling // when there’s someone around to catch you.
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For peace to take hold, one person must first stop fighting.
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I think people can be trusted to know what makes them unhappy. Maybe we don't always know what we want exactly, but we can usually say what we don't with a fair amount of specificity.
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I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.
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I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.
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How can you miss someone who’s right beside you?
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There’s a hollow where he used to be, and it echoes with self-imposed loss.
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He is not the same person as when we met, but . . . neither am I. Time has refined us, but instead of pushing us apart, we’re closer than ever.
Ann Aguirre