Frey Ryu

“How ever, I've learned that the heart can't be told when and who and how it should love. The heart does whatever the hell it wants to do. The only thing we can control is whether we give our lives and our minds the chance to catch up to our hearts.”
― Colleen Hoover, Maybe Someday

“Listen, Tate. I want your mess. I want your clothes on my bedroom floor. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom. I want your shoes in my closet. I want your mediocre leftovers in my fridge.”
― Colleen Hoover, Ugly Love

“BLUE SWEATER

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that?
That's the sound of my heart beating...

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of your heart beating.

It was the first day of October. I was wearing my blue sweater, you know the one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with a double knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the ocean.
You promised to love me forever that night...
and boy
did you
ever!

It was the first day of December this time. I was wearing my blue sweater, you know the one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with a double knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the ocean.
I told you I was three weeks late
You said it was fate.
You promised to love me forever that night...
and boy
did you
ever!

It was the first day of May. I was wearing my blue sweater, although this time the double stitched hem was worn
and the strength of each thread tested as they were pulled tight against my growing belly. You know the one. The same one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with holes in the ends of the
sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the
ocean.

The SAME sweater you RIPPED off of my body as you shoved me to the
floor,
calling me a whore ,
telling me
you didn't love me
anymore.

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of my heart beating.

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of your heart
beating.

(There is a long silence as she clasps her hands to her stomach, tears streaming down her face)

Do you hear that? Of course you don't. That's the silence
of my womb.

Because you
RIPPED
OFF
MY
SWEATER!”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“One million fifty-one thousand and
two hundred minutes
That's approximatley how many minutes
I've loved you
It's how many times i've thought about you
How many minutes i've worried about you
How many minutes i've thanked God for you
How many minutes i've thanked every deity in the universe for you.
One million
Fifty-one Thousand
And
Two
Hundred
Minutes
One million fifty-one thousand amd two hundred times.
It's how many times you've made me smile.
How many times you've made me dream,
How many times you've made me believe,
How many times you've made me discover,
How many times you've made me adore,
How many times you've made me cheris,
My life.
....
And exactlly one million fifty-one thousand and two hundred minutes from now, i am going to propose to you, and ask that you share all the rest of the minutes
Of your life, with me.”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed