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I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.

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
Sweet
Kisses
Pure
Hello
Ones
Knives
Moment
Fierce
Moments
Honey
Good
Kissing
Never
Passionate
Bye
Like
Cutting
Tasted

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They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.
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He’s worth fighting for, but I won’t change who I am for any man. No more than he should alter himself to suit me.
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Because it takes more courage to heal the world's hurts than to inflict them.
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Sometimes the past needed to stay buried it was the only way you could move on. And sometimes you had to dig it up, because that too was the only way.
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I know just how he feels that it’s come to this. Sometimes, love isn’t enough, even when it’s all you have.
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I’m as forgiving as the wall you hit at two hundred kilometers an hour.
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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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If you don't tell me what's on your mind, I can't guess
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But courage wasn't an absence of fear it was fighting despite the knot in your stomach.
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Sometimes it felt as if all happiness came at a price. You could never, ever, have perfection. Life gave you beauty so you could bear the pain.
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I wanted proof, not promises.
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There’s a hollow where he used to be, and it echoes with self-imposed loss.
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Sometimes I miss the old me.
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I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.
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I sighed. 'It's hard. You're the only one who listens to what I have to say.' Longshot dropped a gentle, comforting arm around my shoulders. 'Then speak louder, girl. Don't let them put out your spark.
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I imagine the ones we’ve lost as ghosts who prowl about the edges of the light, waiting for us to join them. Sometimes that’s terrifying, and sometimes it’s reassuring, a promise of homecoming.
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What was the good of having such a fine home if you weren't willing to fight for it?
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Love sounded terrible if it made you so weak, you couldn't survive with out it.
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Right now, I wish I’d stayed because I want you at my side. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t mean it that way. You just never needed me that way I said it to you once as I was leaving—that you love me, but you don’t need me. You don’t lean. But I admire that about you, and I could use some of your strength right now.
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He would bear scars because of me, as I carried them for him.
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