She thinks she’s getting better but really, she’s just getting used to the pain.

Nothing was ever going to be ordinary or the same again.
You could patch up whatever was broken, but if you were the one who had fixed it,
you’d always know in your heart where the fault lines lay.

Not that she didn’t love almost every boy she’d ever met,
and not that every boy in the world didn’t totally love her.
It was impossible not to.
But she wanted someone to love her and shower her with attention
the way only a boy who was completely in love with her could.
The rare sort of love. True love.
The kind of love she’d never had.