becca hart sad quotes
“I’d thought my love for romance novels would have died with my parents’ divorce. Instead, it made me crave them more. I was going through two books a week. I could not get enough. It was like, if love couldn’t exist in reality, at least it was alive in fiction. Between the pages it was safe. The heartbreak was contained.”
“My heart was beginning to hurt, the same way it did the day he left. It was slow at first, a subtle burn. And then the flames began to grow, devouring everything in their path. So I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed a book. Any book. I didn’t even bother reading the title. I flipped to the last chapter because I needed the happy ending right now. I read and read and read until reality faded into fiction.”
“You know,” she said, kneeling on the floor beside me and sitting down, “when my parents got divorced, I felt like this too. I kept searching for answers like their marriage was some puzzle and all I needed was to find the right pieces. I obsessed over it for years, wondering why my dad left and what moment he realized he didn’t want us anymore. Was it during dinner one night? Was there a fight I don’t know about? Did he just stop loving my mom? There are so many questions and I’m still looking for the answers, Brett. Even now. I mean”—she started laughing—“I show up at his house sometimes and I just stand there like a complete weirdo! Staring and waiting! I even went inside last week and talked to his wife! And the worst part is, I don’t even know what I’m waiting for. I just stand there and hope that the day will come when I won’t have to. When I won’t feel like this anymore.”
“People leave, Brett. It’s not our fault for not giving them a reason to stay. It’s their fault for not finding one. You know?”
“That’s not what I meant. At all. This,” I said, gesturing back to the hotel, “is already going to be hard enough without the entire town’s opinions weighing in.”
There was no getting through to Brett now. His mind was made up. “I’m going to get my mom,” he said. “Please don’t try to stop me.”
So I didn’t. I let him walk away and then I lay down on the grass.”
“ Then the words sank in and my throat started to tighten, the way it did before I cried. “But last night,” I said, thinking back to our conversation on the patio, “you said you wanted to be together. You said it felt real even when we were pretending. You said you wouldn’t leave.”
“I know.” Now he reached for my hands. His eyes were begging. I took a step back, letting his fingers grasp air.”
“I took a deep breath, then said, “I’m sorry about your father. I really am, Brett. I know what it feels like to be let down by a parent, believe me. I’ve spent the past five years feeling like that. But I also know what it feels like to run from it and to want to lock everyone out. It doesn’t work. It makes everything worse.”
“Becca—”
“I think you should leave.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I never wanted any of this to happen.”
“I know,” I said, and I think that was the problem. That his feelings for me weren’t enough to stand out in all this mess, when my feelings for him were all that stood out in mine.”
“I didn’t even look at it, I just opened it to a random page, tore it out, then threw it into the water. I watched it float, then slowly move away. I breathed, counted to five, then threw the entire book in. Now it sank, right down to the very bottom until I could no longer see it. Good. I didn’t want to see it. Seeing was a reminder. I wanted it gone.
I grabbed another book and threw it into the water. Then another. And another. I sat there under the sun until the bag was half empty, the lake a little fuller.”
“Was it worth it?” I asked, turning around. “Leaving us for this new life. Was it worth it? Are you happier?”
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” he said.
That was all the answer I needed.”