Grief was like a newborn, and the first three months were hard as hell, but by six months you'd recognized defeat, shifted your life around, and made room for it.
Ann BrasharesMots clés life grief defeat room hard newborn
There were those emotions down there, and though she couldn't quite feel them, they were strong and she feared them. It was like watching a thunderhead from high up in a plane, and though you weren't under it, you knew how it would feel if you were. You knew you'd have to land eventually.
Ann BrasharesMots clés emotions
I picture you four girls back when you were small. I hardly knew where you ended and the other ones started.
Ann BrasharesShe'd cried over a broken heart before. She knew what that felt like, and it didn't feel like this. Her heart felt not so much broken as just ... empty. It felt like she was an outline empty in the middle. The outline cried senselessly for the absent middle. The past cried for the present that was nothing.
Ann BrasharesMots clés past present empty nothing broken-heart cried outline
She hadn't chosen the brave life. She'd chosen the small, fearful one.
Ann BrasharesMots clés life brave small fearful
A part of her wanted to tell him she still loved him, and that even though this love was hopeless and long over, it still consumed her year after year. It was a tangled hairball of feelings and she couldn't pull forth any one strand.
Ann BrasharesMots clés love feelings consumed tangled
Those were the people who made her something, and without them she was different. She'd held on to them and to that old self tenaciously, though. She clung to it, celebrated it, worshipped it even, instead of constructing a new grown-up life for herself. For years she'd been eating the cold crumbs left over from a great feast, living on them as though they could last her forever.
Ann BrasharesMots clés life different eating forever something feast years grown-up celebrated crumbs old-self tenaciously worshipped
She wondered again about her inclination to wish for things that made her so deeply unhappy.
Ann BrasharesMots clés wish unhappy inclination wondered
You thought you had the choice to stay still or move forward, but your didn't. As long as your heart kept pumping an your blood kept blowing and your lungs kept filling, you didn't. The pang she felt for Tibby carried something like envy. You couldn't stand still for anything short of death, and God knew she had tried.
Ann BrasharesMots clés god death heart envy blood moving-forward lungs pang
At least I tried.
Ann BrasharesMots clés tried
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