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But those words were only the middle of the story. There was a beginning here, too.

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Middle
Story
Words
Stories
Beginning

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After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.
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closed my eyes and listened. It was like music I'd heard all my life, even more than This Lullaby. All those keystrokes, all those letters, so many words. I brushed my fingers over the beads and watched as her image rippled, like it was on water, breaking apart gently and shimmering before becoming whole again.
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You just looked... she said, searching for the word, taken, you know? Plus you hardly reacted to Wes. I mean, you did alittle, but nothing like most girls. It was a little swoon. Not a sa-woon, you know? I said, Sa-woon? Oh, come on, she said shaking her head. Even a blind girl could tell he is amazing.
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This Lullaby is only a few words, a simple run of chords, quiet here in this spare room, but you can hear it, hear it, wherever you may go, even if I let you down, this lullaby plays on.
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An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.
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There was nothing, nothing to depend on. And why was I surprised?
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Never would forever, with all its meanings, be so clear and distinct as in the true, guaranteed end of the world.
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Like it takes so little not only to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.
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I turned and looked into the gas station, where Wes was now paying, as the man who'd driven us looked on. That's too bad, I said. It's okay, though, she assured me. Someday I'll show you an extraordinary boy, Macy. They do exist. You just have to believe me. Don't worry, I said. I do.
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You can't love anyone that way more than once in a lifetime. It's too hard and it hurts too much when it ends.
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I wasn’t ready to think about the other yet: that it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for Macon, but that maybe he wasn’t right for me. There was a difference. Even for someone who things didn’t come easy for, someone like me.
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With my mom, when someone was gone, they were gone. She didn't waste another minute thinking about them, and neither should you.
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