Quotes About Vulnerability

And for that moment, my heart is lifting too fast to be scared of falling.

don't touch me i said because i can't handle someone being good to me.

I want to say more, but don't know what the words are supposed to be. I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable night time conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there's no room in the air.

I have spent years of my life sitting in my room, creating defenses of cynicism, darkness, and bleakness. Jed's friendship is the skeleton key to my fortress. He disarms me every time.

But there's something about her—the cities on her shoes, the flash of bravery, the unnecessary sadness—that makes me want to know what the word will be when it stops being a sound. I have spent years meeting people without ever knowing them, and on this morning, in this place, with this girl, I feel the faintest pull of wanting to know. And in a moment of either weakness or bravery on my own part, I decide to follow it. I decide to find out more.

This is the dangerous thing about musicals. Most of them assume that as soon as you find your voice, you'll use it to sing to someone else.

it's not his body that changes right away. it's something inside. he says he wants to be a little weaker. i don't understand. i say 'thinner?' and he says 'no, i want to be stronger in a different way.' not because of me, but for me.

I can't stand being mean. People playing games. I want to guard myself against it, but I make a shitty guard for my own heart. I would rather lose the game than play it. I would rather be hurt than be mean. Because I can live with myself if I'm hurt. I don't think I could live with myself if I were mean.

I am shy. Sometimes painfully shy. And it's especially painful when someone reminds me about it.

We never figured out whether I need to be more reassuring or if he just needs reassurance too much. We both try to readjust our settings to make it okay

It was an exquisite irony: Just when we stopped wanting to kill ourselves, we started to die. Just when we were feeling strength, it was taken from us. This should not happen to you. Adults can talk all they want about youth feeling invincible. Surely, some of us had that bravado. But there was also the dark inner voice telling us we were doomed. And then we were doomed. And then we weren't. You should never feel doomed.

The first sentence of the truth is always the hardest.

I instantly feel like the world has turned to glass. Every moment is delicate. Every movement is a risk.

You shouldn't have to venture deep down in order to get to love.

Be honest and don't pretend you're not falling truly, madly, and deeply for this guy. Denial will get you in trouble.

I want to say more, but don't know what the words are supposed to be. I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable night-time conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there's no light in the room.

Adults can talk all they want about youth feeling invincible. Surely, some of us had that bravado. But there was also the dark inner voice telling us we were doomed. And then we were doomed. And then we weren't. You should never feel doomed.

It's when you walk around the apartment in my boxers when you don't know I'm awake. And then that grin, when you do know I'm awake. You spend so much time in the morning making sure every hair is in place. But I have to tell you: I like it most like this, haphazard, sleep-strewn, disarrayed.

With that right person, you can have a late-night conversation at any time of the day.

Such a strange thing, to hold a six-year-old's hand. Especially a six-year-old you've only just met. A toddler will grab hold of your finger, and someone your own age will clasp on to your whole hand, but with six-year-olds it's something in between, this acknowledgment that they can't be the one to take hold, so you have to do all the holding, folding your hand around theirs, feeling so much bigger and responsible.

Like everyone else, Avery considers his inner world to be a scary, convoluted, inscrutable place. It is one thing to show someone your best, cleanest version. It's quite another to make him aware of your deeper, jagged self.

You like him because he is a lost boy. Believe me, I've seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.

Nobody ever took my picture. They didn't want to. Or I wouldn't let them. You were the only exception.

i know if i told her about liking guys, she'd probably stop wanting to date me, which would be a huge plus. but i also know i'd immediately become her gay pet, and that's the last kind of leash i want. and it's not like i'm really that gay. i fucking hate madonna.