Jodi Picoult |
I sometimes wonder if it is just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they are supposed to be by going nowhere.
Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed - sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it`s going to be.
Kids think with their brains cracked wide open; becoming an adult, I`ve decided, is only a slow sewing shut.
Traveling is all very well and good as long as you knew there is a place or person you can call home.
How many of us had tried to forget something traumatic... only to find it printed on the back of our eyelids, tattooed on our tongues?
Besides the obvious difference, there was not much distinction between losing a best friend and losing a lover: it was all about intimacy. One moment, you had someone to share your biggest triumphs and fatal flaws with; the next minute, you had to keep them bottled inside. One moment, you`d start to call her to tell her a snippet of news or to vent about your awful day before realizing you did not have that right anymore; the next, you could not remember the digits of her phone number.
Sometimes you can see things happen right in front of your eyes and still jump to the wrong conclusions.
Bad is not an absolute, but a relative term. Ask the robber who used the cash he stole to feed his infant; the rapist who was sexually abused as a child; the kidnapper who truly believed he was saving a life. And just because you break the law doesn`t mean you have intentionally crossed the line into evil. Sometimes the line creeps up on you, and before you know it, you`re standing on the other side.
Just because you keep something a secret doesn`t mean it never happened, no matter how much you want that to be true.
You can`t look back - you just have to put the past behind you, and find something better in your future.
Love meant jumping off a cliff and trusting that a certain person would be there to catch you at the bottom.