P.S. Bees Still Freak Me Out


I'm reading through The Secret Life of Bees for the second time because Moby-Dick got off to such a slow start and because I somehow always end up reading three or four books at once. Sometimes, I write down passages that were particularly well-written or that just struck a chord with me for some reason. Here are two that I grabbed today:

"I laid my head on his shoulder and wondered how he could stand me. In one short morning I had exhibited insane laughter, hidden lust, pissy behavior, self-pity, and hysterical crying. If I'd been trying to show him my worst sides, I could not have done a better job than this."

Oh man, have I been there. Just recently, I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor, sobbing into a pile of dirty laundry. I could not for the life of me figure out why I was crying, but it was to the point where I couldn't really stop myself. I hadn't quite reached the "watch yourself cry in the mirror while you halfheartedly attempt to clean up the mess and blow your nose" stage, but I was pretty darn close. Then, my best friend innocently struck up a conversation with me and wound up experiencing Sobbyskirts, Snifflyskirts, Poutyskirts, Grumpyskirts, and several other potential dwarf personalities, none of which were very pleasant. The fact that he made it through the conversation and got me to snap out of it says volumes about what a good friend he is.

"The whole time we worked, I marveled at how mixed up people got when it came to love. I myself, for instance. It seemed like I was now thinking of Zach forty minutes out of every hour, Zach, who was an impossibility. That's what I told myself five hundred times: impossibility. I can tell you this much: the word is a great big log thrown on the fires of love."

A. M. E. N.