I went to bed without reading, instead staring out my window with the curtains drawn, wondering about boys. Why did they behave so oddly? One minute their teasing was relentless, and then bam!― they’d stun you with a thoughtful gesture. Either way, their actions made you want to cry. Maybe that was the intent.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: boys relationships crying ya behavior richelle richelle-goodrich richelle-e-goodrich
The description of Huck’s father grabbed my full attention, and I glanced up at the book in my teacher’s hand as if to double check. My eyes bulged reflexively. Huck’s father was an abusive drunk just like mine. The boy was hopeful that a corpse found near the river was actually his dad, but it turned out not to be. It was spooky how high my hopes rose for the boy, and then sank so utterly low when the body was discovered to be a female in disguise. I should’ve mourned for the woman, but it was the boy I felt bad for.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: empathy alcoholism abuse richelle richelle-goodrich
I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever felt sorry for. There were plenty of kids I was envious of. There were others I achingly admired, but that might simply be another form of jealousy. Then there were those I feared, dreaded. And the worst of them, the man who shamed me. I could see my father’s angry features looming over my mother. I could clearly picture her beside him in his truck, cowering against the door while he belittled and assaulted her.
I guess I did know someone I felt sorry for.
Stichwörter: compassion empathy jealousy sympathy envy pity richelle richelle-goodrich
Even the smallest tender mercy can bring peace when recognized and appreciated.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: inspirational peace mercy appreciation gratitude comfort thankfulness richelle richelle-goodrich
The funny thing about an impossibility is that it tends to be a magnet for those who would prove it otherwise.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: inspirational goals dreams determination fortitude trying impossible richelle richelle-goodrich
Gratitude is medicine for a heart devastated by tragedy. If you can only be thankful for the blue sky, then do so.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: heart tragedy medicine healing gratitude thankfulness thanks richelle richelle-goodrich
If you'd just learn to do as I say from the beginning, I wouldn't have to follow up your errors with reproving smirks and repeated I-told-you-sos.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: humor listening richelle richelle-goodrich
One way or another, I think we are all destined to learn the same lessons in life. Universal truths are universal truths. They cannot be changed.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: life truth learning life-lessons richelle richelle-goodrich
You will realize one day that all the money in the world cannot buy you happiness. Nor can it make you a person of good character.
Richelle E. GoodrichStichwörter: money happiness learning life-lessons richelle richelle-goodrich
I understand it was Derian who spoiled everything. He purposefully tainted your view of me and forced you to go along with him. I know none of what happened was your idea or your desire, Eena.”
She didn’t get up, but spoke from her curled position. Her voice was weak, still heavy with despair. “Derian didn’t force me to do anything.”
“But if he hadn’t influenced you, we would be enjoying a pleasant dinner again, telling stories and laughing. I’m sure that would be the case. You would be happy……and so would I.”
Eena chuckled without amusement.
“You have to admit we shared some very enjoyable evenings, didn’t we? There’s really no reason we can’t put this whole mess behind us and start from where we left off.” He sounded genuinely serious.
“You forget,” she reminded him, “I heard your conversation with the Ghengats. This isn’t about Derian, it’s about you.”
“Alright,” he admitted with an acquiescent sigh, “so I’m not everything you’d hoped for. But really, what man can ever live up to any woman’s terribly high expectations?”
This got her attention. She almost stood up to face him, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Leaning forward, she retorted, “Expecting a man to respect you, to be honest with you, and, oh yes, to not be a shameless murderer—I don’t think those are overly high expectations!”
He shrugged, casually excusing his faults. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“What do you want?” she finally asked, exasperated.
He squatted to her level and stated his desire. “I want you.”
Eena thought the expression on his face—the look in his weary blue eyes—appeared strangely sincere. But there was one thing she had learned from all this: never trust a master of deceit.
Stichwörter: love lust desire perfection expectations deceit boyfriend richelle richelle-goodrich eena
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