He took the mess that was Macbeth and fixed it, and I wonder if he might, in some small way, be able to do the same for me.
I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t tell anyone. As long as I didn’t say it aloud, it wasn’t real.
You only really fall apart in front of the people you know can piece you back together.
I reached up with my finger and traced the scar over my eyebrow, remembering when that was the greatest hurt I’d ever known.
Oh, God,” I said.
“No, it’s Dexter,” he replied, offering me his hand, which I ignored.
He glanced behind him, then back at me. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, and grinned at
“Like hell,” I replied,
For most of us, once something was busted, it was game over. I would have loved to know how it felt, just once, to have something fall apart and see options instead of endings.
Here was a boy who liked flaws, who saw them not as failings but as strengths. Who knew such a person could exist, or what would have happened if we’d found each other under different circumstances? Maybe in a perfect world. But not in this one.
I am coming to terms with the fact that loving someone requires a leap of faith, and that a soft landing is never guaranteed.
In that distant, hopeful way unreal things can be.
Just because we don’t see eye to eye on everything doesn’t mean we can’t be close.