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He looks out into the empty street, allowing me to sit in his car and just miss her. To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.
Jay Asher
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Jay Asher
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: September 30
Novelist
Writer
Arcadia
California
Streets
Miss
Thoughts
Warm
Cold
Street
Looks
Flow
Feels
Car
Allowing
Heart
Air
Pull
Time
Empty
Breath
Missing
Breaths
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I sat. And I thought. And the more I thought, connecting the events in my life, the more my heart collapsed.
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This time, for the first time, I saw the possibilities in giving up. I even found hope in it.
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Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.
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But sometimes there’s nothing left to do but move on.
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If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land. If my love were a desert, you would see only sand. If my love were a star- late at night, only light. And if my love could grow wings, I'd be soaring in flight.
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That's why you did it. You wanted your world to collapse around you. You wanted everything to get as dark as possible.
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It's important to be aware of how we treat others. Even though someone appears to shrug off a sideways comment or to not be affected by a rumor, it's impossible to know everything else going on in that person's life, how we might be adding to his/her pain. People do have an impact on the lives of others that's undeniable.
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Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.
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After all, how often do we get a second chance?
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I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.
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Every reader is different. There's no book that's inappropriate for every person, but there are people who cannot handle everything.
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When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?
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But I need to wake up somehow. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s best to get through the day half-asleep. Maybe that’s the only way to get through today.
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Everything about it was false. Right then, in that office, with the realization that no one knew the truth about my life, my thoughts about the world were shaken.
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The main thing I wanted to say, and thankfully it’s what most people say they get out of the book, is simply an acknowledgement that we do affect each other in ways we can’t predict.
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I repeat his words in my head. What's going on? What's going on? Oh, well, since you asked, I got a bunch of tapes in the mail today from a girl who killed herself. Apparently, I had something to do with it. I'm not sure what that is, so I was wondering if I could borrow your Walkman to find out. 'Not much,' I say.
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And after I dropped him off, I took the longest possible route home... I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighborhoods entirely new to me. And finally... I discovered I was sick of this town and everything in it.
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And as I stood there in the hallway―alone―trying to understand what had just happened and why, I realized the truth: I wasn't worth an explanation―not even a reaction. Not in your eyes.
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Don't give up on me now. I'm sorry. I guess that's an odd thing to say. Because isn't that what I'm doing? Giving up?
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Everything seemed good, but I knew it had the potential to be awful.
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