Sarah Dessen (born June 6, 1970) is an American writer who lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
Lifestyle is an terrible, unpleasant put to not have a very finest buddy.
This was just one night, one chance to vary and see where it took me. The fireflies were probably already out: maybe it wasn’t just a season or a time but a whole world I’d forgotten. I’d never know until I stepped out into it. So I did.
How weird that must be, to stay the same as everyone else changes.
I hoped that Grace would be a little bit of the best of all of us: Scarlett's spirit, and my mother's strength, Marion's determination, and Michael's sly humor. I wasn't sure what I could give, not just yet. But I would know when I told her about the comet, years from now, I would know. And I would lean close to her ear, saying the words no one else could hear, explaining it all. The language of solace and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.
I drove off, with my friends watching me go, all of them grouped on Lissa's hood. As I pulled onto the road, I glanced into the rearview and saw them: they were waving, hands moving through the air, their voices loud, calling out after me. The square of that mirror was like a frame, holding this picture of them saying good-bye, pushing me forward, before shifting gently out of sight, inch by fluid inch, as I turned away.
There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.
It's so, so stupid what we do to ourselves because we're afraid. It's so stupid.
Love is so unpredictable. Sometimes you'll know a man for years and then one day, boom! Suddenly you see him in a different way. And other times, it's that first date, that first moment. That's what makes it so great.
I'd learn that it's not just where you go, but how you choose to get there. So I pulled that sign off the green bike - ENJOY YOUR RIDE! - and went inside to take the first step toward doing just that.
Okay. Enough. " I got out of the closet, brushing myself off, then turned around to face her. "This is happening. So you need to go downstairs, face your fears, and make the best of it, and everything will be okay. " She narrowed her eyes at me. "When did you suddenly become so positive?" "Just get out of there.
When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well.
That was the thing about being on the inside: the world was just going on, even when it seemed like time for you had stopped for good.
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.
Now I felt like I was drifting, sucked down by an undertow, and too far out to swim back to the shore.
And I felt a sudden whirl in my head, knowing this leap was inevitable, that I wasn't just standing on the cliff, toes poking over, but already in mid-air.
After all with me & Marshall, it had never been about words or conversation, where there was too much to be risked or lost. Here, though, in the quiet pressed against each other, this felt familiar to me. And it was nice to let someone get close again, even if it was just for a little while.
We can't expect everybody to be there for us, all at once. So it's a lucky thing that really, all you need is someone.
But if everything was always smooth and perfect, you'd get too used to that, you know? You have to have a little bit of disorganization now and then. Otherwise, you'll never really enjoy it when things go right.
Yes, it sucked getting dumped. But wasn't it better to just be brutally honest? To admit that your feeling for someone is never going to be powerful enough to justify taking up any more of their time? I was doing him a favor, really. Freeing him up for a better opportunity. In fact, I was a practically a saint, if you really thought about it. Exactly.
Accepting all the good and bad about someone. It's a great thing to aspire to. The hard part is actually doing it.