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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
Back
Many
Connect
Thrown
Face
Faces
Times
Someone

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What you don't understand, you can make mean anything.
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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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And here he is again, yet things feel like they'll never be as easy between us as they once were.
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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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I needed a break... from myself.
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It was love because it was worth it.
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You don't know what goes on in anyone's life but your own.
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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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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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If time was a string connecting all of your stories, that party would be the point where everything knots up. And that knot keeps growing and growing, getting more and more tangled, dragging the rest of your stories into it.
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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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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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Do you remember the last thing you said to me? The last thing you did to me? And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me when I said it I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.
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I want to collapse. I want to fall on the sidewalk right there and drag myself to the ivy.
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And what about you-the rest of you-did you notice the scars you left behind? No. Probably not. Because most of them can't be seen with the naked eye.
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If I had a chance with him, I missed it. No, I didn't miss it. I threw it away.
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Josh will begin disappearing into a future where the only place he and I remain friends is on the Internet.
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