I mean, I hope you’re happy,
But the sky is still the sky without you,
And I’m not surprised by that anymore.
—Caitlyn Siehl, from This is Not a Love Poem
I was always attracted not by some quantifiable, external beauty, but by something deep down, something absolute. Just as some people have a secret love for rainstorms, earthquakes, or blackouts, I liked that certain undefinable something.
—Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
I always believed that we would find our way back to each other every time. But this time it felt final. Like I would never see him again, or that when I did, it would be different - there would be a mountain between us. I knew it in my bones. This time was it. I had finally made my choice, and so had he. He let me go.
—Jenny Han, We’ll Always Have Summer