A second act I fell into, and the home that I chose, as much as it chose me.

You’re wonderful. You’re the reason for the word wonderful. It really shouldn’t be used for anything else.

But you—you make love so easy, Daphne. You make me think I already deserve it, exactly how I am.

The same universe that dispassionately takes things away can bring you things you weren’t imaginative enough to dream up.

Like I’m starting over from scratch, and so everything needs to be exactly right as soon as possible to make up for lost time.

that the key to being able to talk to anyone might just be curiosity.

“You were a realist,” I tell her. “Honey.” She laughs. “I’m a cynic. And a cynic is a romantic who’s too scared to hope.”

My life, five months ago, was picture perfect, but it wasn’t the picture I wanted. And I don’t want him. I’m totally over him.

tight-knit family, I realize now I’d also never cried in front of them, never complained about work or opened up about how hard I found it to trust new people. I’d never even used a curse word in front of them. Their perfection hadn’t drawn me in—it had intimidated me. I spent our whole relationship auditioning, the same way I always feel when I’m