99+ Emily Giffin Quotes on Baby proof, Fidelity and Life - Quotes.pub

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It’s a matter of curiosity – and anyone who says they are utterly indifferent to what their significant exes are doing is, in my opinion, either lying or lacking a certain amount of emotional depth. I’m not saying it’s healthy to be past-obsessed, ferreting out details of every ex. But it’s simply human nature to have an occasional, fleeting interest in someone whom you once loved.

That although I love Nick, on most days I don’t think he lassoed the moon.

He was just the wrong guy for me at the time. Nothing more, nothing less.

Don’t go giving this encounter any crazy meaning like you did with him the first time around. It doesn’t mean a thing. Not a thing. Sometimes, in life, there is no meaning at all.

What I can’t stand are the judgmental hypocrites – people who talk a big Christian game yet don’t even make a cursory attempt to follow the Golden Rule, let alone some of those pesky commandments.

I know by now that you can’t control your life, no matter how hard you try. That inevitably people leave and disappoint and die. But there is one constant, one thing you can always count on: that not only does love come first, but in the end, it is the only thing that remains.

We may not get do-overs in life, but we can always have fresh starts and new beginnings.

You can’t go back,” he says. “Just look forward. You’re doing the right thing now.

I ever stop loving him the way you’re supposed to stop loving everyone but the one you’re with? If the answer is no, then will the lapse of time or a change of geography really fix the problem? And regardless of the answer, what does the mere question say about my relationship with Andy?

A big mistake. The kind of mistake that brews resentment and dangerous fissures. The kind of mistake that makes your heart ache. The kind of mistake that makes you long for another choice, the past, someone else.

It’s not that simple or clear-cut – and I wonder if it ever is when it comes to matters of the heart.

Second chances are rare and wonderful.

And yet, there is nobody I’d rather talk to, be near, look at, than my husband, an unprecedented feeling that overcame me the moment we met.

I’m not really shy. I’m an introvert.” I went on to explain the difference – the fact that being around people didn’t make me uneasy, I just preferred to be alone most of the time.

Although too much time has gone by to miss her, I feel regret that I didn’t maintain our friendship. Even if we no longer have much in common, we would have always had the past, which, in some ways, is just as important as the present or future.

I think about the thin, fragile line separating all of us from misfortune, almost as a way of putting a few coins in my own gratitude meter, of safeguarding against and after happening to me.

Why do I need to have reasons? When someone decides to have a baby, people don’t go around asking what her reasons are.

But no matter what you call it, it seems that every couple has two stories- the edited one to be shared from the couch and the unabridged version, best left alone.

When you wanted to savor something, it would speed by in a blur. When you wanted to get past something, it would drag on forever. Elaine.

I smile at my husband’s unwavering thoughtfulness. Sometimes he really does seem too good to be true.

I guess she’s been like this since her arrival here, maybe even our whole lives, but sometimes when you know someone well, you don’t see them as they really are. So I honestly think I’ve managed to ignore this fundamental part of her personality, perhaps not wanting to see my closest friend in this light.

I think of how life takes unexpected twists and turns, sometimes through sheer happenstance – like running into Leo on the street. Sometimes through calculated decisions – like Margot’s. Or mine, tonight, when I left Leo. In the end, it can all be called fate, but to me, it is more a matter of faith.

But that’s the thing about the sucker punch; the sucker element hurts worse than the punch.

That is one of the problems with getting older. There is a distinct lag time between how you see others and how you view yourself. I still thought of myself as looking twenty-four.

Deep down, I am also repenting. I am proving my love. I am renewing my vows. I am safeguarding my marriage. I am choosing Andy.

After all, there is nothing like a mother telling you that you’re making a bad decision to convince you that what you are doing is the absolute best course of action.

I’m not saying it’s healthy to be past-obsessed, ferreting out details of every ex. But it’s simply human nature to have an occasional, fleeting interest in someone whom you once loved.

She wonders what fool ever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all – she has never disagreed with something so much.

It occurs to me that as different as we are in our behavior and decisions, our most basic, knee-jerk emotional reactions to really big things are often remarkably similar. And it is in these moments that I am most grateful for my sister.

I think of Josie’s theory that it’s all interrelated, that it all goes back to that night in December, all of our decisions and dreams and mistakes from the past inextricably linked.

I nod, thinking of how difficult marriage can be, how much effort is required to sustain a feeling between two people – a feeling that you can’t imagine will ever fade in the beginning when everything comes so easily. I think of how each person in a marriage owes it to the other to find individual happiness, even in a shared life. That is the only real way to grow together, instead of apart.

Because sometimes I have the feeling that everyone thinks that everyone else is living a fairy tale. Especially in the South. People fake things so much. Put on a happy face and show off your perfect life.

She knows in her heart that it doesn’t work like this. That misfortune doesn’t give you the right to disregard others, ignore the rules, tell lies and half-truths.

But I cherished our filterless relationship and considered it the truest measure of a best friend, greater than pure affection. Who was the person you trusted enough to be your most transparent self with, in both good times and bad?

I don’t love him, period. I didn’t love him before this. I cared about him. And I wanted to love him. Maybe I could have grown to love him. But those feelings just weren’t there. I liked the idea of him. It was exciting. He was exciting. Too exciting.

Songs and smells will bring you back to a moment in time more than anything else. It’s amazing how much can be conjured with a few notes of a song or a solitary whiff of a room. A song you didn’t even pay attention to at the time, a place that you didn’t even know had a particular smell. I wonder what will someday bring back Dex and our few months together. Maybe the sound of Dido’s voice. Maybe the scent of the Aveda shampoo I’ve been using all summer.

I find myself wondering which is more egregious, to pretend to be happy when you’re not, or to feel so consistently dissatisfied when you should be happy.

There is emotion, and then there is what you do about it.

It’s always a good feeling when you can produce just the right one-liner to prove your point so tidily.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is fast. And it keeps speeding up. Sometimes I lose track of the season – or even the year. And we just have to make the best of it all. Our choices. Our fleeting moments together.

Much later, she would go back and read the entry, and think to herself that memories were that way, too. When you wanted to forget, everything would return in raw, brutal focus. When you wanted to remember, the details would slip away like a dream at dawn.

I have a fleeting fantasy of telling her that procreation isn’t a contest, any more than SAT scores and making the cheerleading squad and getting into a good college and all the other things, both big and small, that she turned into a contest when Janie and I were young, going all the way back to whose baby teeth came in first, according to my mother.

But at the time, I honestly didn’t think I was hurting anyone, not even myself. I didn’t think much at all, in fact. Yes, I was gorgeous and lucky in love, but I truly believed that I was also a decent person who deserved her good fortune.

Which always raises the interesting question of whether redheads pursue other redheads in a narcissistic way, or simply, because they have no other choice, as nonredheads aren’t interested.

Being around people didn’t make me uneasy, I just preferred to be alone most of the time.

She was generally a happy person but had a tendency to live in the past, making frequent references to “when you kids were little.

I have always been drawn to coming-of-age stories and books and movies featuring compelling young characters.

But certainly not everyday you can find someone who wants to have a monogamous relationship.

T know what they say about secrets. I’ve heard it all. That they can haunt and govern you. That they can poison relationships and divide families. That in the end, only the truth will set you free.

Underscoring all of this is Leo – his constant presence in my mind, along with the troubling realization that I deeply associate him with the city and vice versa. So much so, in fact, that leaving New York feels an awful lot like leaving him.

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