It is hard to stare at her, hard because she’s not the distant Girl who smiles at me anymore. She has become more than that, more than I expected her to become and more than I was looking for her to become. She is becoming what I wanted she the last with the Arctic eyes to become, which is someone who loves me. Simply and truly as I am. It is hard to stare at her because as I know she is starting to love me, I am starting to love her. I don’t care what she’s done or who she’s done it with. I don’t care about whatever demons may be in her closet. I care about how she makes me feel and she makes me feel strong and safe and calm and warm and true. It is hard to stare because I am forced to contemplate giving it up. It is hard to stare, but I do it anyway.
A Million Little Pieces by James Frey (via rereadthis