It Doesn't Matter, Anyway, Why You Like

How Ballsy It Was To Just Assume You Know, With One Glance, The Things Another Person Could Live Without. As If It Was The Same For Everyone, That Simple.

One Open, One Closed. It Was No Wonder That The First Image That Came To Mind When I Thought Of Either Of My Sisters Was A Door. With Kirsten, It Was The Front One To Our House, Through Which She Was Always Coming In Or Out, Usually In Mid-sentence, A Gaggle Of Friends Trailing Behind Her. Whitney’s Was The One To Her Bedroom, Which She Preferred To Keep Shut Between Her And The Rest Of Us, Always.

My Sister, Who Never Understood Most Of The Things I Wanted Her To, Might Have Been Able To Understand What Had Happened To Me In This Summer Of Weddings And Beginnings. And She Was Right. The First Boy Was Always The Hardest.

I Paused, Only Just Now Realizing That The Subject Was Hitting A Little Close To Home. "you Know, Getting Hurt. Putting Herself Out There, Opening Up To Someone." Yeah," He Said Adding Some Cheese Straws To The Cart, "but Risk Is Just Part Of Relationships. Sometimes They Work, Sometimes They Don't." I Picked Up A Box Of Cheese Straws, Examining It. "yeah," I Said. "but It's Not All About Chance, Either.

I'm Incredibly Flattered When People Tell Me That My Books Helped Them Through High School. Because Of My Own Experience, The Thought That Something I Wrote Might Help Someone Who Felt The Way I Did When I Was A Teen...that's Huge. It Awes Me.