How do I think of you? As someone I want to be with. As someone as young as me, but “older,” if that makes sense. As someone I like to look at, not just because you’re good to look at, but because just looking at you makes me smile and feel happier.
When you are in your teenage years you are consciously experiencing everything for the first time, so adolescent stories are all beginnings. There are never any endings.
As someone who knows her mind and who I envy for that. As someone who is strong in herself without seeming to need anyone else to help her. As someone who makes me thinks and unsettles me in a way that makes me feel more alive.
Yet, isn’t it strange, isn’t it weird, how we can KNOW that someone is not behaving in the way we imagine, and at the same time we can be totally convinced that he is!
Love, being in love, isn’t a constant thing. It doesn’t always flow at the same strength. It’s not always like a river in flood. It’s more like the sea. It has tides, it ebbs and flows.
The books, the authors who matter the most are those who speak to me and speak for me all those things about life I most need to hear as the confession of myself
How clever the human mind is, that it can accept two contradictory things as ‘facts.’ Yes, I know that in this case one ‘fact’ was untrue. But the human mind can KNOW something is untrue and still accept it as a ‘fact,’ and act on it as if it were true.
