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I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone. As long as I didn't say it aloud, it wasn't real.

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Aloud
Couldn
Wasn
Anyone
Tell
Didn
Real
Long

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Says the girl with no thyme.
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I didn't want to leave things the way we had, unresolved, ... and tried to tell myself he cared about me enough not to look elsewhere for what I wasn't giving him.
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It sounded stupid, but of course everything does when you're just getting the bare bones facts, only the basics.
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Don't be a fool. Don't give up something important to hold onto someone who can't even say they love you.
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With love like that, you can't get pick about how it finds you or the details. All that matters is that it's there. Better late than never.
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Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.
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I didn't want to talk about what happened, so it seemed safest not to talk at all.
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I'd seen another shade of him, and if it had been light where we were now, he'd have seen the same of me. So I was grateful, as I had been so often in my life, for the dark.
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I mean, it's impossible to fake anything if you've already seen the other person in a way they'd never choose for you to. You can't go back from that.
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You don't have to make things harder then they have to be just to prove a point.
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As if at the age of eighteen life already sucked beyond any hope of improvement.
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But the original was there as well—more jaded and rudimentary, functional rather than romantic. It fit not just the yellow house but another door, deep within my own heart. One that had been locked so tight for so long that I was afraid to even try it for fear of what might be on the other side
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If this was my instinct talking, I didn‟t want to hear what it was saying.
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It's so easy to get caught up in what people expect of you. Sometimes, you can just lose yourself.
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It's not forever', she'd said, but to my mother, it might as well have been. She had make her choice, and this was it, where she felt safe, in a world she could, for the most part, control.
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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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Whether it was a song, a person, or a story, there was a lot you couldn’t know from just an excerpt, a glance, or part of a chorus.
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