Life Isn't Fair," Owen Told Her. "get

Talk Was Cheap And Useless. Action Was What Mattered. And Me, I Was Moving. Now, Again, Always.

But It's Strange, When You've Always Been Told Something Is True, Like The Moon Will Come Back. You Need Proof. And While You Wait, You Feel The Entire Balance Of Your World Just Tipping. It's Crazy. But When It's Over, And It Does Come Back, That's The Best, Because It's All You Want, Everything Narrows To Just That. It's This Great Rush, Like For That One Second Everything's Okay With The World Again. It's Amazing.

You, Have This Whole Tall, Dark Stranger Thing Going On. Not To Mention The Tortured Artist Bit. And You, Have That Whole Blonde Cool And Collected Perfect Smart Thing Going On. You're The Boy All The Girls Want To Rebel With. You, Are The Unattainable Girl In Homeroom Who Never Gives A Guy The Time Of Day.

But The Original Was There As Well—more Jaded And Rudimentary, Functional Rather Than Romantic. It Fit Not Just The Yellow House But Another Door, Deep Within My Own Heart. One That Had Been Locked So Tight For So Long That I Was Afraid To Even Try It For Fear Of What Might Be On The Other Side

Here Was A Boy Who Liked Flaws, Who Saw Them Not As Failings But As Strengths. Who Knew Such A Person Could Exist, Or What Would Have Happened If We'd Found Each Other Under Different Circumstances? Maybe In A Perfect World. But Not In This One.