Tuesday, April 30, 2013

True Love Story by Willow Aster


I like how the book starts out in the present, "I want to slap him and wrap my arms and legs around him and breathe his air -" and then goes to the past where they first met, I like books like that I really do, "he's staring down into my eyes. The way he looks at me, I feel exposed, raw, awake..." I like Sparrow she over packs books, like me haha, "oh wait, I've packed a half dozen books." Sparrow is one to speak her mind, "look. I can't handle the little innuendos in front of my parents today. I'm not sure I can when it's just the two of us, but my 'little bird' heart REALLY can't take it in front of them. If you want to be with us today, behave." I get Sparrow's frustration I'd be pee-peed off as well, if Ian pulled this crap with me, "you invited me to come see you, Ian. We even talked specific dates and then nothing. Months go by. And not just this time, but every time, we say goodbye and I never know if I'm even going to hear from you again!" My voice is getting louder and louder with every sentence. "Just when I think 'it really is over this time', you pop back up and everything's just hunky-dory? I don't get it!" I'm so mad I want to cry. I take a deep breath instead. "You told me you thought you loved me. Not that I really believed it, but...how messed up is that? You say that and then leave again and I don't hear from you for months again?" Ian is pretty bada** he protects his woman, "I started hitting him and I couldn't stop. The only time I've ever gotten in a fight was in middle school. I don't do that, baby. You have to know that. You do, right?" Then he does something so stupid and I hate him, I went through the emotions that Sparrow was going through, "listen to me, I love you. I can't lose you, Sparrow. Do you hear me? I made a mistake, but I cannot lose you. I'm coming to you. Are you listening?" Um hell to the no I'm not listening it's what happens when you think with your smaller head instead of the bigger one. The ending though I liked. 

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