The Resurrection of Wildflowers Gönderileri
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"Bana söylediğin ilk şeyi hatırlıyor musun?"
(...)
"Aynen şöyle söylemiştin: izinsiz girdin."
(...)
"Ve şimdi, o gün tam da buraya izinsiz giren o kişiyle evleniyorsun. Buna ne dersin?"
Sayfa 394Kitabı okudu
"Seni seviyorum."
(...)
"Ben de seni seviyorum, Günışığım. Beni sevdiğin için teşekkür ederim."
Sayfa 297Kitabı okudu
Acaba beni yeterince sıkı tutarsa parçalanmama engel olacakmış gibi mi hissediyordu?
Sayfa 261 - SalemKitabı okudu
Sometimes, when you’re in the midst of tragedy—of heartbreak—it can be impossible to see the other side. It’s like you’re drowning beneath the weight of your emotions, memories, your very thoughts, but if you just keep going, keep swimming, then eventually you make it to shore. You’re tired, but stronger, and look at yourself in a new light. I think it’s our tendency to doubt ourselves, to think we’re weaker than what we are, but there’s more in all of us than we realize.
Loving Thayer isn’t a choice. It just is. Loving him is natural, automatic, just like my body’s need to breathe air.
Thayer Holmes loves me. He loves me more than I think anyone has ever loved another person before.
Thayer Holmes has lovingly grown my favorite flower in his greenhouse all this time just because it reminds him of me.
“I swear to God, Sunshine, I’m going to make you the happiest woman on the planet.”
Six years ago, this smiley blonde woman wormed her way into my cold, angry heart and made it hers. I’ve never wanted it back. I still don’t. But I do want to give her even more. When she’s ready.
When you love someone, you take care of them in whatever way they need.
“It means, I want to have more babies with you. I want to go on vacations with you. I want to cook meals in this kitchen and do stupid mundane shit like clean the fucking house together. I want your clothes with mine in the fucking laundry. I want to laugh and cry together. I want to hold you every night when you sleep. I want to kiss you goodnight and good morning. I want to make love to you slow and fuck you hard. I want to sit out on the front porch and rock on the swing. I want, not only to grow old with you, but to live life with you. I want it all.”
I’ve wanted this woman ever since she brought me cupcakes and rambled her way into my heart. When I look at her like this, it feels like no time at all has passed, like we were never separated. I think that’s how you know a person is yours—when not time, or distance, can lessen the love between you.
“What?” I ask, wondering why he’s staring at me like that.
“I’m making a memory right now.”
My heart tugs at his statement. “I am too,” I whisper.