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How many times had I let myself connect with someone only to have it thrown back in my face?

Jay Asher

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Jay Asher
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: September 30
Novelist
Writer
Arcadia
California
Times
Someone
Back
Many
Connect
Thrown
Face
Faces

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Maybe it didn’t seem like a big deal to you Zach. But now, I hope you understand. My world was collapsing. I needed those notes. I needed any hope those notes might have offered. And you? You took that hope away. You decided I didn’t deserve to have it.
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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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You don't know what goes on in anyone's life but your own.
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I miss video games where the jump-kick was the trickiest combo to master.
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I needed a break... from myself.
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Everything...affects everything
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You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.
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God, I am freaking out. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I just look guilty of something and he’s picking up on that.
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We both laugh. And it feels good. A release. Like laughing at a funeral. Maybe inappropriate, but definitely needed.
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I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.
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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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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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Maybe you didn't know what people thought of you because they themselves didn't know what they thought of you. Maybe you didn't give us enough to go on, Hannah.
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A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.
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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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I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl who had never been kissed. Never. But I liked the boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. That's the story, the whole story, right there.
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I left. When I should have stayed.
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I want to look back. To look over my shoulder and see the Stop sign with huge reflective letters, pleading with Hannah. Stop!
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We didn't get that chance because I was afraid. Afraid I had no chance with you.
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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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