It’s funny how one summer can change everything.

I think I'm way too much of a control freak to co-author anything with anyone. I have a hard enough time writing with myself! I admire people that can do it, but it's not for me.

Because it is so hard, in any life, to believe in what you can’t fully understand.

I hadn't said goodbye. It had been easier, like always, to just disappear, sparing myself the messy details of another farewell. Now, my fingers hovered over my track pad, moving the cursor down to his comment section before I stopped myself. What was the point? Anything I said now would only be an afterthought. Elizabeth who goes by her middle name

If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.

But something, somehow, had made all these paths converge. You couldn't find it on a checklist, or work it into the equation. It just happened.

I didn't trot my pain out to show around. I kept it better hidden than anyone. I did.