You Could Just Tell When A Person

Maybe Other Writers Have Perfect First Drafts, But I Am Not One Of Them. I Always Try To Get The Book As Tight As I Can, But You Reach A Point As The Author Where You Have Lost All Perspective.

I Took In A Breath. "what's The One Thing You'd Do," I Asked. "if You Could Do Anything?" Pass," He Said. For A Second I Was Sure I'd Heard Wrong. "what?" He Cleared His Throat. "i Said, I Pass." Why?" He Turned His Head And Looked At Me. "because." Because Why?" Because I Just Do.

You Know, When You Think About It, That’s Kind Of A Weird Thing. I Mean It’s Meant To Be Sympathetic, Right? But It’s Kind Of Not. Like You’re Telling The Person There’s Nothing Unique About What They’re Saying I Considered This As A Couple Of Kids On Rollerblades Whizzed Past, Hockey Sticks Over Their Shoulders. “yeah,” I Said, Finally, “but You Could Also Look At It The Other Way. Like No Matter How Bad Things Are For You, I Can Still Relate.

What Did It Feel Like, I Wondered, To Love Someone That Much? So Much That You Couldn't Even Control Yourself When They Came Close, As If You Might Just Break Free Of Whatever Was Holding You And Throw Yourself At Them With Enough Force To Easily Overwhelm You Both.

When He Stopped Walking And Kissed Me A Few Minutes Later, It Was Like Time Had Stopped, With The Air, My Heart, And The World All So Still. And It Was This I Remembered Every Other Time I Was With Marshall.