Quotes About Vulnerability

n the dark everyone felt the same: the edges blurred. When I think of myself then, what I was like two years ago, I feel like a wound in a bad place, prone to be bumped on corners or edges. Never able to heal.

And guys don't get attached, guys don't give themselves over completely, and guys lie. That's why they should be handled with great trepidation, not trusted, and held at arm's length whenever possible.

He doesn't love me. He might still love me as I was at fifteen, when I didn't know any better. When I trusted everyone. I'm not that person any more. He's just a boy. He was the first to really hurt me, but he's just a boy. There were a lot of them.

After all with me & Marshall, it had never been about words or conversation, where there was too much to be risked or lost. Here, though, in the quiet pressed against each other, this felt familiar to me. And it was nice to let someone get close again, even if it was just for a little while.

The people who know you best can be risker, because the words they say and things they think have the potential to be not only scary but true, as well.

I knew that in the last few minutes everything had changed. I'd tried to hold myself apart, showing only what I wanted, doling out bits and pieces of who I was. But that only works for so long. Eventually, even the smallest fragments can't help but make a whole.

I just stood there, looking at her. My head was spinning, my mouth dry, and all I could think about was that I wanted to go someplace safe, someplace I could be alone and okay, and that this was impossible. My old life had changed and my new one was still in progress, altering by the second. There was nothing, nothing to depend on. And why was I surprised?

What if even if I had told, or did tell, nobody believed me? Or even worse, blamed me for it?

So it had been me. Maybe I'd known that all along, and that was why I had run. Because I didn't show weakness: I didn't depend on anyone. And if he'd been like the others, and just let me go, I would have been fine. It would have been easy to go on conveniently forgetting as I kept my heart clenched tight, away from where anyone could get to it.

I was bored. Sad. Lonely. It was only a matter of time before I cracked.

The lizard stared up at us, and we stared back, taking each other in. He was little and defenseless, I felt sorry for him already. This was a screwed-up place he'd just come into. But he didn't have to know that. Not yet, anyway. There in that room, where it was hot and cramped, the world probably still seemed small enough to manage.

As I spoke, I realized I'd held these words in for so long and so tightly that I felt the space they left empty once released. It was vast enough that I could think of nothing to follow them.

So I narrowed my world, cutting put everyone who'd known me or tried to befriend me. It was the only thing I knew to do.

No one knew where I was, not a soul, and while I thought this was what I wanted, I realized, in the quiet of that room, that it was the scariest thing of all

Maybe she said. I just wish we'd have a little mishap.It would be reassuring

What was it like to be so confident even in your failings that you weren't the least bit bothered when other people pointed them out? I was almost envious.

I didn't hear the footsteps. Or see the shadow. Instead from where I was crouched on the ground, the green of the grass filling my vision, the first thing I made out were hands, a flat silver ring on the middle finger of each. One was clutching my notes. The other was reaching out for me.

That's my problem, actually. I don't talk to anybody about what's going on in my head, because I'm afraid they might not be able to take it

I'd never been in love, never felt that surge of feeling or that fall from its graces. I'd only watched as others weathered it: my mother in her garden, Sumner on the front lawn all those years ago, Ashley sobbing from the other side of a wall. I sat kerbside with my best friend and held her, trying to shoulder some of the hurt. There's only so much you can do, in these situations.

if i were a book i would be so open

And all of it came down to one thing: love, or the lack of it. The chances we take, knowing no better, to fall or to stand back and hold ourselves in, protecting our hearts with the tightest of grips.

But down deeper, something I'd seen as solid-- not perfect, but solid-- was suddenly crumbling. I felt like I was falling to pieces right along with it.

Something I had seen as slid–not perfect, but solid–was suddenly crumbling. I felt like I was falling to pieces right along with it.

And love is needing someone. Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.