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1 " You saved my life," I mutter. "I ... I don't know what to say?" I swallow hard. "How can I thank you?""No thank-you necessary," he says.I search his moist eyes, and wipe away tears from mine. "I will always be indebted to you.""Better plan," he says. "How about you just save my life someday, then we'll be even?""I will," I say, smiling through tears. "I will. "
― Sarah Jio , Always
2 " I may not have had closure, but I have tasted wisdom. Anyone who has had their heart broken or even just bruised, has learned that there is a finality in the facts. "
3 " He left. And I've realized that when someone wants to leave, you let him go. "
4 " I know what this is," he whispers, his voice faint above the music. I've known it from that first night I saw you at the show, but now there's no doubt in my mind."My gaze is entwined with his. Our eyes are locked and the key is gone. My heart feels full in my chest, heavy but in a good way."It's love," he says, letting the words slip freely from his mouth. And when they do, they fill the air and multiply like musical notes in a cartoon."Love," I say as the record crackles and skips."Love," he whispers back, weaving his fingers in mine.And when I set my head on his pillow, and our bodies become one, for the first time in my life I feel as if everything in this crazy, complicated world makes complete and utter sense. "
5 " detours in the road. Because without them, this life "
6 " Life is simpler in your twenties, especially when it comes to love. You meet someone, you choose them and they choose you. Together you can conquer the world. Move to Paris. Have a gaggle of children or become vegetable farmers. All the stuff you wrote about when you had a diary and a dream is now yours to live out in bright, bold colors. Life is yours, together, and you take it by the horns and live. You pledge your life to someone, fiercely, and the rest is history. But when it doesn’t work out, when the story has an unhappy ending, the way my twentysomething love story did, it changes something in your heart. You go from a girl with a diary and a dream to a girl defined by her job, whose passion for social justice takes a backseat to business headlines. You’re thirty, or thirty-five, and it’s clear now that there are more rain clouds than rainbows and that you are the only one who truly has your own back. The dream has died. You lost the diary—no, you burned it. "
