Julie Johnson

I USED TO THINK IT WOULD BE COOL TO READ OTHER PEOPLE’S MINDS.
THEN I JOINED FACEBOOK.
Phoebe West, defending her techno-phobic life choices

TRUE FRIENDS DON’T JUDGE ONE ANOTHER.
THEY JUDGE OTHER PEOPLE.
TOGETHER.
Phoebe West, ruminating on friendship.

„You're annoying.”
„You already told me that.”
„Well, I meant it.”

„The past holds pain; the future holds promise.”

“And you don’t think you’d get tired of being with one woman, for all that time?” I ask, goading him. “You don’t think, after all those years, you’d fall out of love or lust or whatever it is that makes people commit to each other forever?”
“It is a long time, I’ll grant you that.” His blue eyes hold mine steadily. “But even if I marry one woman, I won’t be spending my life with just one woman.”
Harper gasps.
“So you’re saying you’d cheat?” My voice goes up an octave. “You condone cheating, but you’re giving Grayson crap for his opinions?”
“I didn’t say I’d cheat. You didn’t let me finish.” Wyatt’s lips flatten into a serious line. His voice goes low, laced with passion. “Marrying one woman doesn’t mean spending your life with one woman, because the funny girl you fall in love with on a first date at twenty-eight eventually becomes the fascinating creature you propose to at thirty, then evolves into the stunning bride you wait for at the end of an aisle at thirty-two, and finally grows into the astounding mother to your children at thirty-four. By forty, she has blossomed into the businesswoman, the force to be reckoned with. By the time you’re fifty or sixty or seventy or a hundred, she’s been everything — your wife, your lover, your friend, your companion, your sous-chef, your travel partner, your life coach, your confidant, your cheerleader, your critic, your most stalwart advisor. She grows with you. She changes with you. She is always stable, but never stagnant. She is not one woman. She is a thousand versions of herself, a multitude of layers, an infinite ocean whose depths you plumb over a lifetime, whose many treasures and intricacies, quirks and idiosyncrasies you need an entire marriage to explore.” His voice softens.
“A man should be so lucky to spend his life stuck with one woman such as that.”

„(…) well, as everyone knows, if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, the way to a girl’s is through a good book.”

I’VE HAD HUNDREDS OF BOYFRIENDS.
SO WHAT IF THEY’RE FICTIONAL?
DON’T YOU DARE JUDGE OUR LOVE.
Phoebe West, on the many merits of book boyfriends.

ENOUGH WITH THE SEX POSITIONS. WHY CAN’T MAGAZINES PUBLISH AN ARTICLE ABOUT READING POSITIONS THAT DON’T GET UNCOMFORTABLE AFTER FIVE MINUTES?
Phoebe West, while perusing an issue of COSMO.

I am a girl of ashes and embers. And now… I will rise. A phoenix, reborn into something better. Perhaps a little sadder, but definitely a lot stronger.

And, lastly… thanks to all the boys out there who (intentionally or not) provided inspiration for the love between these pages. If you weren’t such idiots, my fictional men wouldn’t be half as appealing.
JUST KIDDING.
(Not.)

Acknowledgments