Escenas y Diálogos (6): Love Letters to the Dead 2

Sección que creó el blog Paradise Of Words, que consiste en escribir las escenas y diálogos que te gustaron de un libro que leíste.       
 * Esta sección puede tener spoilers *

 When we pulled up outside my house, I asked, “Do you think I'm too messed up?”
 “For what?” Sky replied.
 “For you.”
 “No.”

 He said it in my ear, for the second time ever. “I love you.” He said it hard, like he meant it, and like maybe it hurt.

 I kept my eyes glued upward, watching the stars start to eat the sky alive.

 Hannah said, “I mean, words can't be good enough for a lot of things. But, you know, I guess we have to try.”

 I loved him still and hated him all at once.

 And eventually you got more roles, better ones, and you became the kind of grownup that made growing up seem okay, like you don't have to lose your spirit in order to get older.

 The words fell out of my mouth before I could think about it. “Nothing is worse than when someone who's supposed to love you just leaves.”

 “You don't hate me?”
 “No.”
 “You're not scared of me?”
 “No. I just want you to know that you don't have to let that stuff happen to you anymore.”

 “What? He hit you?” Hannah nodded. “Yeah. It's okay. I mean, I'm okay.”
 “It's not okay. I hate him. I hate him so much. I hate anyone who hurts you. I love you.”

 “I know you're pissed off at the world,” Hannah said, “but you can't just go around yelling and being a jerk. And you can't take it out on me anymore.”

 (...) but because she wanted to protect me, and suddenly, I felt thankful that she cared that much. “That's really nice, Aunt Amy, but don't you think everyone has to go through stuff?”

 “But I don't want you to think... I mean, the way I felt about you, I've never felt that way about a girl before. Not your sister or anyone.”

 Maybe May needed me as much as I needed her. She needed the way I saw her, the way I loved her.

 But really, we all just have these blood and guts inside of us. And as much as I was hiding from him, I guess part of me also always wanted Sky to see into me–to know the things that I was too scared to tell him. But we aren't transparent. If we want someone to know us, we have to tell them stuff.

 You think you know someone, but that person always changes, and you keep changing, too.

 I guess when you lose someone, sometimes it feels like you are the only one. But I'm not.

 “There are a lot of human experiences that challenge the limits of our language,” she said. “That's one of the reasons that we have poetry.” She smiled.

 He looked as beautiful as he did the first day I saw him, but more than that even, because now I knew him.

 He took my face in his hands, and it was a different kiss than it's ever been. I didn't feel like a light that he was crowding toward anymore, like a street lamp, or even like a moon. I felt like we both had the sun inside of us.

 I can't describe how it felt, being there right then, so close together, on the edge between who we were and who we wanted to be.