2 Days!!! *gets paper bag*
Bella. What to say about Bella? As annoying as she becomes in Eclipse and slightly through out Breaking Dawn - we still love her. Bella is heartbreaking in New Moon. Devastatingly, hauntingly - heartbreaking. I'm serious. It makes my heart and chest hurt to read some parts in New Moon. Bella is so relatable and familiar. I mean we feel like we either know her or we've felt like she does in the books. Bella's heartbreak is our heartbreak. Bella's depression is our depression. Bella's hope is our hope. I could go on... (but don't worry, I won't) Bella is an Everyman. Everyone can - at the very least - relate.
New Moon has to be my favorite book. I know many disagree. But I can't help it. Bella's fall into darkness is just as poignant as her budding friendship with Jacob, her want/need for Edward and her courage not only to go to Italy to save Edward but then to stand up to Edward and go to the Cullens for the vote. This is a powerful book.

What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thing - not the way the Cullens did it, anyway.
~Bella (Amen sister)
The guilt made my head bow and my shoulders slump. I'd run them out of their home - just like Rosalie and Emmett. I was a plague.
~Bella, on Jasper and Alice
-
-
What's the worst that can happen? I flinched. That was definitely the wrong question to ask. I was having a hard time breathing right. Okay, I thought again, what's the worst that I can live through? I didn't like that question so much, either.
~Bella
With shaky legs, I followed him into the forest. The evidence of his path had disappeared instantly. There were no footprints, the leaves were still again, but I walked forward without thinking. I could not do anything else. I had to keep moving. If I stopped looking for him, it was over. Love. Life. Meaning... Over.
*
*
*
The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washed over my head, pulling me under. I did not resurface.
*
*
*
(The most heartbreaking and moving literary display of time elapsing that I've ever seen. Srsly go look at it in the book.)
October
November
December
January
Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls. But it does pass. Even for me.
*
*

0 special comments:
Post a Comment