After Math (Off the Subject #1)

Because as long as you know the rules, you know what’s expected of you, and as long as you have the necessary information, you can always find the answer.

But life is meant to be messy, Scarlett. You need to live a little.” “You can’t live a little or a lot, Caroline. You simply live.

Do you want to work out with me tonight?' he asks.
I waggle my eyebrows. 'And here I thought we were working out.'
He laughs. 'God, I love you.

Everything just feels so right when I'm with you, Scarlett. I can be me. But it's more than that. You give me something I haven't had in a long time, if ever. You give me peace. It's like the jumbled mess in my head can settle down, and I can be still with you. Like none of the other stuff matters." His voice catches, and he swallows. "I had a bad day and usually I'd get shitfaced drunk, but the only thing I could think of was I had to see you.

Goodbye is too permanent. Goodbye has the risk of never seeing each other again. But good morning is full of possibilities.

His eyes burn bright with desire. "I want you to see me when I come into you. I want you to know I'm here. I want you to know I see you.

His hand caresses my cheek. "Scarlett, I don't want to lose you by fucking up our friendship. I want you in my life, and if we d this, I will lose you. If that means showing some self-restraint for once in my goddamn life, then I will." Both his hands cup my cheeks. "You make me want to be a better person. This is me being a better person.

I always considered fear to be a motivator or a reason not to do something, but I never considered it a reason to continue an ongoing behavior.

I always considered fear to be a motivator or a reason not to do something, but I never considered it a reason to continue an ongoing behavior. This opens a vault full of questions about my own life. I’ve always assumed I’m afraid to engage in activities because I’m afraid of what might happen. But maybe I’m looking at it all wrong. Maybe I should be asking myself if I’m really afraid of leaving what makes me comfortable.

I'm not sure which is better-the chance to experience love and lose it, or to live my life without it.

I stand outside the doorway of my Western civilization class caught in a dilemma. Either go in and have thirty pairs of eyes stare at me, or leave—which means missing my test. The decision is already made. I only need to open the door and walk in.

Maybe I'll hurt you," I whisper as my eyes search his. "I'm broken Tucker. I'm hopelessly broken inside, and I'm not sure there are enough pieces in me to put back together. But when I'm with you, I feel like maybe I can actually be whole.

Nothing easy is worth having.

This is life. It's messy and unpredictable, full of wonderful surprises and mind.numbing disappointment. the uncertainty of it all is why I hide, trying to avoid all the pain and the heartache.

What the hell is wrong with me? This isn't the first time I've asked myself this question, in a multitude of situations. But this time specifically I'm referring to my inability to feel anything when being kissed by a man. Maybe I'm just too broken. Thant's the part that scares me the most. That I'm too broken to love.

Why do any of us do what we don't want to do?" I don't respond, unsure what answer he's looking for.
He smiles, but it's sad. "Because we're afraid of what will happen if we don't."
I always considered fear to be a motivator or a reason not to do something, but I never considered it a reason to continue an ongoing behavior. This opens a vault full or questions about my own life. I've always assumed I'm afraid to engage in activities because I'm afraid of what might happen. But maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe I should be asking myself if I'm really afraid of leaving what makes me comfortable.