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What, I said, is that a crime here or something? Like only buying one thing at the Gas/Gro?

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Thing
Something
Like
Gas
Buying
Crime

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If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.
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Editing is hard but nowhere NEAR as tough as facing that blank page and blinking cursor each day. You're all alone and no one else can do it. At least with editing you have someone in the trench with you.
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It was as familiar to me as a song I'd been hearing my whole life, covered by various people but the basic tune the same.
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It was like reaching for someone's hand, then missing their fingers, or even their arm, and hitting their shoulder instead. But no matter. You hang on tight anyway.
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He wasn't what I'd thought he was maybe he never had been. I wasn't what I'd thought I was, either.
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The language of solace, and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.
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Welcome to adulthood, she said. It sucks as much as high school.
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Needing was so easy: it came naturally, like breathing. Being needed by someone else, though, that was the hard part. But as with giving help and accepting it, we had to do both to be made complete-like links overlapping to form a chain, or a lock finding the right key.
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Too many locks, not enough keys.
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I sat up, sliding them off, and the quiet around me did not, for once, seem empty and vast. Instead, for the first time in a while, it felt like it already was full.
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It's funny how someone's perception of you can be formed without you even knowing it.
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Because this is what happens when you try to run from the past. It just doesn’t catch up, it overtakes … blotting out the future.
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I wondered which was harder, in the end. The act of telling, or who you told it to. Or maybe if, when you finally got it out, the story was really all that mattered.
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Maybe we were all destined to just keep doing the same stupid things, over and over again, never really learning a single thing.
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Maybe my sister and I shared more than we thought. We were both waiting and wishing for something we couldn't completely control: I wanted to be alone, and she the total opposite. It was weird, really, to have something so contrary in common. But at least it was something.
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But risk is just part of relationships. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't.
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There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you'd better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you'll never understand what it's saying.
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Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.
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Even if you couldn't see it beneath the surface, molecules were bonding, energy pushing up slowly, as something worked do hare, all alone to grow.
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The truth was, I wasn't sure. But I wanted to keep believing people could change, and it was certainly easier to do so when you were in the midst of it.
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