I was so scared about being discovered, but nobody came. Nobody heard. In my own ears, though, my sobs sounded primal and scary, like something I would have turned off if I'd been able to.
All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.
Music is the great uniter. An incredible force. Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common.
How it seemed like you could see everything, but certain things were blocked out, hidden.
The worst part was that I had things I wanted to tell my mother, too many to count, but none of them would go down so easy. She'd been through too much, between my siters-I could not add to the weight. So instead, I did my best to balance it out, bit by bit, word by word, story by story, even if none of them were true.
I wasn't ready for this, but then I probably never would be, and this year, like so much else, wouldn't wait. I had no choice but to get out of my car, with everyone watching and begin in earnest, alone. So I did
And while it is hard enough to take away something that makes a person happy it's even more difficult when it seems like it's the only thing.
Not for the first time, I wished both of us could just say what we meant. But that, like so much else, was impossible
I am the middle sister. The one in between. Not oldest, not youngest, not boldest, not nicest. I am the shade of gray, the glass half empty or full, depending on your view. In my life, there has been little that I have done first or better than the one preceding or following me. Of all of us, though, I am the only one who has been broken.
There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you'd better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you'll never understand what it's saying.
I'd still thought that everything I thought about that night-the shame, the fear-would fade in time. But that hadn't happened. Instead, the things that I remembered, these little details, seemed to grow stronger, to the point where I could feel their weight in my chest. Nothing, however stuck with me more than the memory of stepping into that dark room and what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real.
As if it didnt matter what was on, but instead how hard i was listening.
One open, one closed. It was no wonder that the first image that came to mind when I thought of either of my sisters was a door. With Kirsten, it was the front one to our house, through which she was always coming in or out, usually in mid-sentence, a gaggle of friends trailing behind her. Whitney's was the one to her bedroom, which she preferred to keep shut between her and the rest of us, always.
I didn't want to talk about what happened, so it seemed safest not to talk at all.
There was no short answer to this; like so much else, it was a long story. But what really makes any story real is knowing someone will hear it. And understand.
It hadn't even occured to me that somebody would believe mine.
But as i lay there, it only seemes like silence filling my ears. And the thing was, it was so freaking loud.
One week, one strong. One scared, one bold. I was beginning to understand though, that there were no such things as absolutes, not in life, or in people. Like Owen said, it was day by day, if not moment by moment. All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough to shoulder the rest.
I just do the best I can under the circumstances.
There was something so heavy about the burden of history, of the past. I wasn't sure I had it in me to keep looking back.
It is kind of hard to hold a lot in. But for me… it's sometimes even harder to let it out.
But those words were only the middle of the story. There was a beginning here, too.
Only a real asshole takes liberties with someone else's car stereo. That's serious.
I mean, at first, it was kind of disappointing. But people recover from disappointment. Otherwise we'd all be hanging from nooses. Right?
This is personal, she'd said. Real. This moment was too, even if you couldn't see it at first glance. It was fake on the outside, but so true within. You only had to look, really look to tell.
It seemed safer to hold it in, where the only one who could judge was me.
But you only get so many do-overs in this life, so many chances to, if not change your past, alter your future.
People get mad Annabel. Its not the end of the world.
I mean, to me, freaking out is different. More of a running away, not telling anyone what's wrong, slowly simmering until you burst kind of thing.
This is the problem with dealing with someone who is actually a good listener. They don't jump in on your sentences, saving you from actually finishing them, or talk over you, allowing what you do manage to get out to be lost or altered in transit. Instead, they wait, so you have to keep going.
More Sarah Dessen Quotations (Based on Topics)
Time - Life - World - People - Perfection - Love - Facts - Night - Relationship - Fate & Destiny - Emotions - Light - Future - Work & Career - Past - Sense & Perception - History - Thought & Thinking - Chance - View All Sarah Dessen Quotations
More Sarah Dessen Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Along for the Ride
- Just Listen
- Lock and Key
- The Truth About Forever
- This Lullaby
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