She realized all at once the deeper thing that bothered her, the thing that made him not just irritating but intolerable: how he kept loving her blindly when she deserved it so little.
She knew whose love she doubted. It wasn’t her parents’ and it wasn’t her friends: It was her own.
What made you feel that stomach-churning agony for one person and not another? If Bridget were God, she would have made it against the law for you to feel that way about someone without them having to feel it for you right back.
What if people knew they were recycled? Would that change anything?
She’d loved him as much as he’d let her. More than he’d let her.
Why does he have to be my boyfriend? Are you inferior if you don’t have a boyfriend? Why does everybody have to be in love with somebody?
There are some people who fall in love over and over.
How terrible would it be to just wait there pathetically alone for him never to show up?”
Eudoxia’s expression grew more serious. “That’s what you’re doing anyway, my dear.
Lena knew she had spent too much of her life in a state of passive dread, just waiting for something bad to happen. In a life like that, relief was as close as you got to happiness.
Let me love you, but don’t love me back. Do love me and let me hate you for a while. Let me feel like I have some control, because I know I never do.