It doesn't matter how busy life's been, how long the five of us have gone without seeing one another: meeting at the cottage is like pulling on a favourite sweatshirt, worn to perfection. Time doesn't move the same way when we're there. Things change, but we stretch and grow and make room for one another. Our love is a place we can always come back to, and it will be waiting, the same as it ever was.
I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the loneliness swell, not knowing whether it's pressing against me from the outside or growing from within. either way, it's inescapable, my oldest companion.
The thing about being a fan of classic literature is that it's becoming incredibly hard to find people to share your passion with and I just think that's super sad
I won't lie, this one bludgeoned my heart wide open. Yet there was still something about it that was therapeutic, poignant, necessary. It's probably the saddest and most emotionally loaded of Emily Henry's latest offerings, so it hurt in ways I wasn't anticipating. It was messy, and deep, blowing the dust off unhealed parts of myself so I had to look at them bare-faced and really evaluate what growth and change and self-worth mean to me, because that answer, as the characters in this book show so well, is different for everyone.
Figuring out who you are, trying to be happy, allowing yourself to love and be loved--these things are neither linear nor easy to achieve. They're often long winding journeys in our lives that are populated with errors, with miscalculations and uncertainties, and I love how Emily Henry gave these characters - her little found family - room to explore that. She never shies away from the messiness of human emotion. The confusion, the contradictions, the decisions we can't bear to make but do. She leaned into that with her little hexagonal friend group, and I appreciated the authenticity of each of their arcs because of that.
Harriet and Wyn love each other so intensely. There is no disputing that. Even as they fake date their way through a Maine vacation with friends, pretending they're still together when they're not, you can still feel the pain of their breakup as if it's a physical wound they're both trying (and failing) to close. There's something so heartwrenching about Wyn's need to feel like he matters, like he's important enough to keep around, and Harriet's terror that she will let down the people that she loves most, because it ends up being the force that comes between them. It's the emotional blockade that keeps them apart. Yet, at the same time, it's their mutual struggle to overcome these self-limiting beliefs about themselves which makes their journey back to each other all the more beautiful and moving to witness.
Harriet and Wyn's love is hard won. Not only is it chosen but it's conscious, and for that reason it feels real.
(Hence why I'll be over here crying about it for the next 100 years. 😭)
Okay OKAY IM A BIT LATE (As in days late) SO UH RIGHT SO SORRY ABOUT THAT-
BUT HAVE THIS I FINALLY FINISHED IT
Happy Birthday Big Green! :]
For context: it basically is like "Oh this is what happened during his birthday!"
To explain further, the first scene is the public celebration of his birthday (being that I envisioned it happening in a museum), the second scene is yknow.. Contiplating life. WHILE WHILE- The third scene is just him celebrating his birthday with Truro, just the two of them :D (They spent the rest of the night hanging out with eachother that's why it's near sunrise)