Who Do You Love

assuming that their hard work, not their privilege, was what ensured them their good jobs, good schools, nice houses, and pricy vacations. Born on third base and think they hit a triple,

Born on third base and think they hit a triple,

Change the setting, change the mood ... She'd taught him to make himself go outside if he was in, or inside if he was out, to interrupt the plummet with something as simple as making a cup of tea or spending a few minutes working on crossword puzzles.

Did any love ever feel as sweet as first love? Were we all just damaged goods now, battered cans in the grocery store sale bin, day old bread, marked down at the registered, hoping that someone would look past the obvious flaws and love us enough to take us home?

drawing of a boy with brown hair and

fluttered

He’d been lonely, and I’d been lonely, but if we were together, we’d never have to be lonely again.

He had sacrificed so much -- And now? What if not even all that was enough to quiet that voice....the voice that said, 'You're not worthy, you don't deserve it, nothing you do will ever be enough.

Her anecdotes had a polished quality, like she had read a book on what could possibly make a beautiful girl sound sympathetic and memorized the answers.

He's a great guy, she said ,and he heard her try to sound enthusiastic,like she was selling herself on her soon-to-be-husband's greatness...and then,in a whispered rush, just before she cut the connection,he thought he heard her say,"Sometimes I wish it had been you

I didn't trust people who forgot to eat.

If you want to hit someone or you want to throw something, I want you to run first. I want you to run until you can hardly lift your legs and your arms. Run until you’re exhausted, and then, if you still want to hit someone or throw something, you just wait ’til you’ve caught your breath again and then go for it. Try it,

I should have been moved. I wasn’t. It was as if I’d been frozen, as if I was now a woman made of ice, and he’d come at me not with a torch or even a candle, but with a toothpick, and was plink plink plinking against the smooth impenetrability of my body. I couldn’t feel a thing.

It's just you and the track and the clock. It's the most elemental thing there is-the simplest and the hardest. No everybody is cut out for it.

It was as if real life had been canceled for the day.

It was easy to make good choices when you had a web of people supporting you, not to mention money as a safety net when everyone else in your family did the right thing, went to the right college, held down a job.

I wanted love, the big love, the kind people wrote songs and made movies about. I wanted to be the center of some guy’s universe, the only thing he could think about. I wanted to matter that way.

I wanted love, the big love, the kind people wrote songs and made movies about. I wanted to be the center of some guy’s universe, the only thing he could think about. I wanted to matter that way. “Hey!

mom about the fight, and he’d be grounded or worse. Maybe his mom wouldn’t even give him his Christmas

much

Rachel

room and refused to return to the table, even

Someone had come in and mopped the floor, and the disinfectant smell was

Sometimes - more often than not - he thought that Rachel and her classmates were just playing at being caring and open-minded, at noticing that there was a world wider than them, their college, their peers. They'd experience poverty in two-hour chunks twice a month. like it was a movie they were going to see or a TV show they were watching, something they'd click off or walk out of when it was done, something they sat through just so they could talk about it with everyone else who'd seen it and had something to say.

The measure of a man is, does he know how to love.

took him to a rink. Andy had watched the other skaters,

what

You have to open yourself up to the universe’s possibilities.

You'll get through it," she said, leaving out the part I already knew-because you're a mother now. Because mothers don't have a choice.

Your first love is important. It’s part of your story. The story you’ll tell yourself, the one you’ll tell about yourself, for the rest of your life.