Cecelia Ahern

“There’s something completely unnerving about seeing your parentsupset. I suppose it’s because they’re supposed to be the strong ones, butthat’s not just it. Ever since people are kids they use their parents as somesort of measurement for how bad a situation is. When you fall on the groundreally hard and you can’t figure out whether it hurts or not you look to yourparents. If they look worried and rush toward you, you cry. If they laugh andsmack the ground saying “Bold ground,” then you pick yourself up and geton with it.”

“I’ve learned that home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”

“Katie is like my calendar, watching her growand change. She is growing up so fast, learning to have opinions of her own,learning that I don’t have the answers to everything. And the moment a childbegins to understand that, you know you’re in trouble.”

“Once again, I don’t quite know where I’m headed Steph. It seems thatevery few years I’m shoveling up the pieces of my life and starting fromscratch all over. No matter what I do or how hard I try I can’t seem to reachthe dizzy heights of happiness, success, and security, like so many people do.And I’m not talking about becoming a millionaire and living happily everafter. I just mean reaching a point in my life that I can stop what I’m doing,take a look around me, breathe a sigh of relief, and think “I’m where I wantto be now.”

“Well isn’t that one thing you’re all the more wise for? Age has taughtyou something. It seems to me that you know the big secret. That nobodyknows what’s going on”

“When I started school I thought that people in sixth class were so oldand knowledgeable even though they were no older than twelve. When Ireached twelve I reckoned the people in sixth year, at eighteen years of age,must have known it all. When I reached eighteen I thought that once I finishedcollege then I would really be mature. At twenty-five I still hadn’t madeit to college, was still clueless and had a seven-year-old daughter. I was convinced that when I reached my thirties I was going to have at least some clue as to what was going on.Nope, hasn’t happened yet.So I’m beginning to think that when I’m fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty,ninety years old I still won’t be any closer to being wise and knowledgeable.Perhaps people on their deathbed, who have had long, long lives, seen it all,traveled the world, have had kids, been through their own personal traumas,beaten their demons, and learned the harsh lessons of life will be thinking,“God, people in heaven must really know it all.”But I bet that when they finally do die they’ll join the rest of the crowdsup there, sit around, spying on the loved ones they left behind and still bethinking that in their next lifetime, they’ll have it all sussed.But I think I have it sussed Steph, I’ve sat around for years thinkingabout it and I’ve discovered that no one, not even the big man upstairs hasthe slightest clue as to what’s going on.”

“I can’t even think about what life “couldhave been” like in Boston, without crying. It’s like deja-vu, I don’t think meand Boston were ever meant to be.”

“Children need close friends to help them grow up, to discover things about themselves and about life. They also need close friends to keep them sane”

“Ruby: How nice for you all. How is the wonderfully helpful Ursula?Rosie: Wonderfully helpful. Yesterday she told me I had problems discussingmy feelings.Ruby: And?Rosie: And I told her that made me feel angry and that she could go fuckherself.Ruby: Well expressed.Rosie: Thank you. I don’t see where there was a problem, I successfullyexplained how I felt and she clearly understood what I meant. Noproblems . . .”

“All I need isbackup. He’s the little angel that sits on my shoulder whispering in my ear,“You can do it!” It’s funny. I’m thirty years old now and I still feel like a littlegirl. I’m still looking around to check and see what other people are doingto make sure I’m not completely different; I’m still looking around for help,hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can’t seem to be ableto catch anybody’s eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking aroundand wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I’m the only person whois confused and concerned about the choices I’ve made and where I’mheaded? Everywhere I look, I see people just getting on with it. Maybe Ishould just follow suit and get on with it.”

“You all looked so happy together in the photograph. You looked like theperfect family. Is there such a thing anymore because if there is, my happylittle unit was definitely not in the queue when they were handing out thetitles.”

“Somewhere along the way, without me even noticing, I grew up Alex. Foronce, I couldn’t take advice from anyone around me about what I should orshouldn’t do. I couldn’t go running to mum and dad and I can’t compare mymarriage to anybody else’s, we all follow our own rules.”

“We have a long way to go tobeing the perfect couple, we certainly don’t live the fairy tale marriage, hedoesn’t shower me with rose petals and fly me to Paris on weekends butwhen I get my hair cut, he notices. When I dress up to go out at night, hecompliments me. When I cry, he wipes my tears. When I feel lonely, hemakes me feel loved. And who needs Paris, when you can get a hug?”

“Deep down, underneath all his layers of stupidity, he’s a really goodman. He may act out far too many selfish thoughts, says all the wrong thingsat all the wrong times, but behind closed doors he’s a best friend. I understandthat he has idiotic tendencies and I can still love him for it. He may notbe someone that you feel comfortable sitting next to at a dinner party but forme, he’s someone that I feel comfortable sharing my life with.”

“the important thing is not what we (look) like,but the role we play in our best friend's life.”

“he was like the drug she knew she shouldn't take,but the drug that kept coming back to feed her addiction”

“There was something about him so pure and untarnished,yet he was powerful and well-versed on life.”

“I learned something important that night. You shouldn’t try to stop everything from happening. Sometimes you’re supposed to feel awkward. Sometimes you’re supposed to be vulnerable in front of people. Sometimes it’s necessary, because it’s all part of you getting to the next part of yourself, the next day.”

“Twice we stood beside each other at the altar, Rosie. Twice. And twicewe got it wrong. I needed you to be there for my wedding day but I was toostupid to see that I needed you to be the reason for my wedding day. But wegot it all wrong.I should never have let your lips leave mine all those years ago in Boston.I should never have pulled away. I should never have panicked. I should neverhave wasted all those years without you. Give me a chance to make them upto you. I love you, Rosie, and I want to be with you and Katie and Josh.Always.Please think about it. Don’t waste your time on Greg, this is our opportunity.Let’s stop being afraid and take the chance. I promise I’ll make youhappy.”

“Things change so quickly. Just when you get used to something, zap! Itchanges. Just when you begin to understand someone, zap! They grow up. Thesame is happening with Katie. She changes every day; her face just becomes somuch more grown-up every time I look at her. Sometimes I have to stop pretendingI’m interested in what she’s saying in order to realize that I actually aminterested. We go shopping for clothes together and I take her advice, we eatout for lunch and giggle over silly things. I just can’t cast my mind back to thetime when my child stopped being a child and became a person.”

“That was all part of giving someone a piece of your heart; they ended up taking a whole chunk of your mind and reserving it all for themselves.”

“If you love something, let it go. if it was meant to be, it will come back to you.”

“My “Best Woman” speechGood evening everyone, my name is Rosie and as you can see Alex hasdecided to go down the non-traditional route of asking me to be his bestwoman for the day. Except we all know that today that title does not belongto me. It belongs to Sally, for she is clearly his best woman.I could call myself the “best friend” but I think we all know that todaythat title no longer refers to me either. That title too belongs to Sally.But what doesn’t belong to Sally is a lifetime of memories of Alex thechild, Alex the teenager, and Alex the almost-a-man that I’m sure he wouldrather forget but that I will now fill you all in on. (Hopefully they all willlaugh.)I have known Alex since he was five years old. I arrived on my first dayof school teary-eyed and red-nosed and a half an hour late. (I am almost sureAlex will shout out “What’s new?”) I was ordered to sit down at the back ofthe class beside a smelly, snotty-nosed, messy-haired little boy who had thebiggest sulk on his face and who refused to look at me or talk to me. I hatedthis little boy.I know that he hated me too, him kicking me in the shins under the tableand telling the teacher that I was copying his schoolwork was a telltale sign.We sat beside each other every day for twelve years moaning about school,moaning about girlfriends and boyfriends, wishing we were older and wiser and out of school, dreaming for a life where we wouldn’t have double mathson a Monday morning.Now Alex has that life and I’m so proud of him. I’m so happy that he’sfound his best woman and his best friend in perfect little brainy and annoyingSally.I ask you all to raise your glasses and toast my best friend Alex and hisnew best friend, best woman, and wife, Sally, and to wish them luck andhappiness and divorce in the future.To Alex and Sally!”

“Rosie: Sorry about that, Randy Andy here wouldn’t let me leave the office.Ruby: Oh he is such a slave driver! You should complain to head office, getthe asshole fired.Rosie: He is head office.Ruby: Oh yeah.Rosie: Well in all fairness Ruby, he may be a prick but we did just take abreak an hour ago . . . and it was our third one in less than threehours . . .Ruby: You are turning into one of THEM!Rosie: I have a child to feed.Ruby: As do I.Rosie: That child feeds himself, Ruby.Ruby: Ah leave my little fatso alone. He’s my baby and I love him regardless.Rosie: He’s 17.”

“Alex: Rosie, I wanted you to be the first person to no that I’ve decided tobecome a heart surgeon!Rosie: Cool, does it pay well?Alex: Rosie, it’s not about the money.Rosie: Where I come from, it’s all about the money. Probably because Idon’t have any.”

“Rosie: What the hell was that silence?Steph: It sounds like something I’d like. It sounded nice.Rosie: It was.”

“I know that. I just don’t feel it sometimes. Over there I felt like Ihadn’t a care in the world. Things felt so good and it was almost asif every muscle in my body relaxed the moment I landed there. Ihaven’t laughed so much in years. I felt like a 23-year-old, Steph. Ihaven’t felt like that much lately. I know this probably sounds weirdbut I felt like the me that I could have been.I liked that I didn’t have to look out for somebody else while Iwalked down the street. I didn’t have the fifty near heart attacks perday that I usually get when Katie goes missing or puts something inher mouth that she shouldn’t. I didn’t have to dive onto the roadand hold her back just in time from being hit by a car. I liked that Ididn’t have to give out, correct people on their pronunciation ormake threats. I liked laughing at a joke without my sleeve beingtugged at and being asked to explain. I liked having adult conversationswithout being interrupted to cheer and applaud a silly danceor the learning of a new word. I liked that I was just me, Rosie, notmummy, thinking just about me, talking about things I liked, goingplaces I liked to go without having to worry about nappy changes,bottle feeding or sleepy-head tantrums. Isn’t that awful?”

“I think I need to facewhat I could have been in order to understand and accept what I am.”

“It’s hard for everyone isn’t it? Anyone who says it’s easy is a liar. There’sthis huge divide between me and Alex right now because I feel like we’re livingin such different worlds, I don’t know what to talk about with him anymore.And we used to be able to talk all night. He phones once a week and Ilisten to what he’s been up to during the week and try to bite my tongueevery time I go into another Katie story. Truth is I have nothing other to talkabout but her and I know it bores people. I think I used to be interestingonce upon a time.”

“I love it here in Boston and I love studying medicine. Butit’s not home. Dublin is home. Being back with you felt like home. I miss mybest friend.I’ve met some great guys here, but I didn’t grow up with any of themplaying cops and robbers in my back garden. I don’t feel like they are realfriends. I haven’t kicked them in the shins, stayed up all night on Santawatch with them, hung from trees pretending to be monkeys, played hotel,or laughed my heart out as their stomachs were pumped. It’s kind of hard tobeat that.”

“There aren’t many sure things in life, but one thing I know for sure isthat you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. You have to followthrough on some things.”

“Life is funny isn’t it? Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, just when you finally begin to plan something, get excited about something, and feel like you know what direction you’re heading in, the paths change, the signs change, the wind blows the other way, north is suddenly south, and east is west, and you’re lost. It is so easy to lose your way, to lose direction. And that’s with following all the signposts”

“Aim for something Rosie, I know you don’t want to hear it, but it willhelp. Aim for what you want and the year will all make sense. Go to Bostonif that will make you happy. Study hotel management like you’ve alwayswanted.You’re only young Rosie, and I know that you absolutely hate to hearthat but it’s true. What seems tragic now won’t even be an issue in a fewlove, rosie 29years time. You’re only 17. You and Alex have the rest of your lives to catchup together . . . After all, soul mates always end up together. Silly Bethanywon’t even be remembered in a few years time. Ex-girlfriends are easily forgotten.Best friends stay with you forever.”

“I wake up in the morning and I feel like I’m missing something. I knowthat there’s something not right, and it takes me a while to remember what itis . . . then I remember. My best friend is gone. My only friend. It was silly ofme to rely so much on one person.”

“To the most inconsiderate asshole of a friend,I’m writing you this letter because I know that if I say what I have to sayto your face I will probably punch you.I don’t know you anymore.I don’t see you anymore.All I get is a quick text or a rushed e-mail from you every few days. Iknow you are busy and I know you have Bethany, but hello? I’m supposed tobe your best friend.You have no idea what this summer has been like. Ever since we werekids we pushed away every single person that could possibly have been ourfriend. We blocked people until there was only me and you. You probablyhaven’t noticed, because you have never been in the position I am in now.You have always had someone. You always had me. I always had you. Nowyou have Bethany and I have no one.Now I feel like those other people that used to try to become our friend,that tried to push their way into our circle but were met by turned backs. Iknow you’re probably not doing it deliberately just as we never did it deliberately.It’s not that we didn’t want anyone else, it’s just that we didn’t needthem. Sadly now it looks like you don’t need me anymore.Anyway I’m not moaning on about how much I hate her, I’m just tryingto tell you that I miss you. And that well . . . I’m lonely.Whenever you cancel nights out I end up staying home with Mum andDad watching TV. It’s so depressing. This was supposed to be our summerof fun. What happened? Can’t you be friends with two people at once?I know you have found someone who is extra special, and I know youboth have a special “bond,” or whatever, that you and I will never have. Butwe have another bond, we’re best friends. Or does the best friend bond disappearas soon as you meet somebody else? Maybe it does, maybe I justdon’t understand that because I haven’t met that “somebody special.” I’mnot in any hurry to, either. I liked things the way they were.So maybe Bethany is now your best friend and I have been relegated tojust being your “friend.” At least be that to me, Alex. In a few years time ifmy name ever comes up you will probably say, “Rosie, now there’s a name Ihaven’t heard in years. We used to be best friends. I wonder what she’s doingnow; I haven’t seen or thought of her in years!” You will sound like my mumand dad when they have dinner parties with friends and talk about old times.They always mention people I’ve never even heard of when they’re talkingabout some of the most important days of their lives. Yet where are thosepeople now? How could someone who was your bridesmaid 20 years ago noteven be someone who you are on talking terms with now? Or in Dad’s case,how could he not know where his own best friend from college lives? Hestudied with the man for five years!Anyway, my point is (I know, I know, there is one), I don’t want to beone of those easily forgotten people, so important at the time, so special, soinfluential, and so treasured, yet years later just a vague face and a distantmemory. I want us to be best friends forever, Alex.I’m happy you’re happy, really I am, but I feel like I’ve been left behind.Maybe our time has come and gone. Maybe your time is now meant to bespent with Bethany. And if that’s the case I won’t bother sending you this letter.And if I’m not sending this letter then what am I doing still writing it?OK I’m going now and I’m ripping these muddled thoughts up.Your friend,Rosie”

“She likened it to a childhood crush, such strong almost obsessive feelings, but more, it had depth. She felt attracted to everything about him, the way he talked, the way he dressed, the words he used, his apparent innocence. Yet he was filled with a deep knowledge of wise insights. He always said the right things, even whe she didn’t want to hear them. The darkness lifted and she could suddenly see beyond. When he breezed into the room, he brought clarity and brightness with him. He was walking hope and she could tell that things for her be… not fantastic or wonderful or happily ever after, but that they could be okay. And that was enough.”

“If you can't put magnolia on a wall then there are always a million other colors you can use, if you can't pay your phone bill then just write letters telling them. I'm not playing down the importance of these things, yes you need money for food, yes you need food to survive, but you also need sleep to have energy, to smile to be happy, and to be happy so you can laugh, just so you don't keel over with a heart attack. People forget they have options. And they forget that those things really don't matter. They should concentrate on what they have and not what they don't have. And by the way, wishing and dreaming doesn't mean concentrating on what you don't have, it's positive thinking that encourages hoping and believing, not whining and moaning.”

“It's like my garden, love. Everything grows. Including love. And with that growing everyday how can you expect missing her to ever fade away? Everything builds, including our ability to cope with it. That's how we keep going.”

“Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.”

“Explaining one's recent loss as more of a continuous journey rather than a dead end, giving one of the invaluable opportunity to gain strength and learn about oneself, and thereby turning this terribly tragic affair into something hugely positive.”

“Slow down. Stop trying to do everything now, now, now. Hold up the people behind you for all you care, feel them kicking at your heels but maintain your pace. Don't let anybody dictate your speed.”

“In truth, we're all just pottering, filling the time that we have here, only we like to make ourselves feel bigger by compiling lists of importance.”

“My box bedroom can only fit a bed and a wardrobe but it was my whole world. My only personal space to think and dream, to cry and laugh and wait until I became old enough to do all the things I wasn't allowed to do.”

“It's funny how people mark their lives, the benchmarks they choose to decide when the moment is more of a moment than any other. For life is made of them. I like to think the best ones of all are in my mind, that they run through my blood in their own memory bank for no one else but me to see.”

“Nothing is never nothing. It's always something.”

“There are certain kinds of silence that make you walk on air.”

“This story is one for which some people will have to suspend their belief. If it wasn't me and this wasn't happening to me, I would be one of those people.Many won't struggle to believe it, though, for their minds have been opened; unlocked by whatever kind of key causes people to believe. Those people are either born that way or, as babies, when their minds are like little buds, they are nurtured until their petals slowly open and prepare for the very nature of life to feed them. As the rain falls and the sun shines, they grow, grow, grow; minds so open, they go through life aware and accepting, seeing light where there is dark, seeing possibility in dead ends, tasting victory as others spit out failure, questioning when others accept. Just a little less jaded, a little less cynical. A little less likely to throw in the towel. Some peoples' minds open later in life, through tragedy or triumph. Either thing acting as the key to unlatch and lift the lid on that know-it-all box, to accept the unknown, to say goodbye to pragmatism and straight lines. But then there are those whose minds are merely a bouquet of stalks, which bud as they learn new information - a new bud for a new fact - but yet they never open, never flourish. They are the people of capital letters and full stops, but never of question marks and ellipses...”

“His entired life bundled into wenty refuse sacks.His and her memories bundle away in Holly's mind.Each item unearthed dust, tears, laughter and memories. She bagged the items, cleared the dust, wiped her eyes and filed away the memories.”

“So many objects, so many memories. Each was being labelled and packed away in bags just as it was in her mind. To be stored in an area that would sometime be called upon to teach and help in future life.”

“And nobody had told them that they were short on time.”