It Doesn't Matter, Anyway, Why You Like

With My Mom, When Someone Was Gone, They Were Gone. She Didn't Waste Another Minute Thinking About Them, And Neither Should You.

Despite My Dad's Assurances I Was Strangely Nervous My Stomach Tight Ever Since We'd Hung Up. Maybe Deb Had Picked Up On This And It Was Why She'd Pretty Much Talked Nonstop Since I'd Approached Her And Asked For A Ride. I'd Barely Had Time To Explain The Situation Before She Had Launched Into A Dozen Stories To Illustrate The Point That Things Happened But People Were Okay In The End.

Here Was A Boy Who Liked Flaws, Who Saw Them Not As Failings But As Strengths. Who Knew Such A Person Could Exist, Or What Would Have Happened If We'd Found Each Other Under Different Circumstances? Maybe In A Perfect World. But Not In This One.

I Have So Many Books I Didn't Sell. Some My Agent Rejected Outright, Others Made It All The Way To My Editor To Be Turned Away. Not Everything Is A Winner, Which Is Tough When You've Devoted Eight Or Nine Months Of Your Life To Something.

So," She Went On, "it Got Me Thinking About What Cost Beauty. Or For That Matter, What Cost Anything? Would You Trade Love For Beauty? Or Happiness For Beauty? Could A Gorgeous Person With A Mean Streak Be A Worthy Trade? And If You Did Make The Trade, Decide You'd Take That Beautiful Swan And Hope It Wouldn't Turn On You, What Would You Do If It Did?