Kelly Quindlen

Please. Please can you make it stop hurting it hurts so badly. I don’t want it. It hurts and I don’t want it. I’m trying to make it go away. Please, just make it go away, just make it go away.
But there’s an ancient voice deep inside of her that knows it will never go away, no matter what she does or how hard she prays.

There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re doing just fine.”

There’s nothing to be scared of.”

I remember feeling like I was both too much and not enough.

Dating her felt like viewing my life through a photo filter. Sometimes I was swept up by how great we looked together; other times, I felt like the photo underneath wasn’t good enough on its own.

Here’s the thing: I know Tally was tough sometimes, but it makes me uncomfortable to hear it from other people. It makes me question my judgment, because for a while there, I was so happy with her. Was I just oblivious? Or, worse, did I convince myself she cared about me when she really didn’t?

I was both too much and not enough.

“Scottie,” she says softly. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Overthink what?”

“Kissing me.”

“I love when I get you to laugh.”

Because before you can worry about who’s in your passenger seat, you have to learn to drive yourself.