Older Jennifer Hartmann Quotes

Life is living. If you’re not living exactly the way you want to live, then what’s the fucking point?

Every moment with you fucking hurts.” His voice was pure grit, words cracking and breaking. “Every moment without you…hurts so much more.

I guess that was why I loved too much. I had a lot of loveless holes to fill.

Speaking of too happy, why are you smiling like a serial killer who just stumbled upon his next victim?

lost things don’t have to stay lost forever. they can be found.

You’re here to save me,” I breathed out. Warm lips brushed against mine as he whispered, “Maybe you’re here to save me.

I was at home again. Not in Illinois, but in Reed’s glittering galaxy. A comet landing in the arms of its favourite star.

He sees me.

do you like this song?” - “it’s my favorite.

She watched the movie. I watched her.

Imperfections are what bind us together. Our common thread. We’re all capable of screwing up, but we’re all capable of forgiving, too. That’s what makes us stronger humans.

Human beings were so damn resilient. We saw color through blackened vision, latched onto hope in hopeless places, and loved with every damaged piece of our broken-down hearts.

Growing old with the one you love was an underrated treasure. Aging was frightening. Death was an ominous certainty that nipped at our ankles. But the journey to the other side of this life with someone who held your heart, who shared your dreams and fears, who knew you in the deepest corners of your soul, was a privilege beyond measure.

I know that forgiveness, growth and understanding can be found in even the darkest circumstances. I know the love has power. power to break and ruin, and power to rebuild. I know the what is meant to be, will be. you can’t rush it. you can’t fake it. you just need to wait for the storm to pass and pick up the pieces when the time is right.

Erasing the past doesn’t do us any favors. If everything had an easy way out, we’d be a brittle, complacent species.

Progress is a journey, not a destination.

She was defiance. A force. A kaleidoscope in motion.

We would forever be a half-written song.

We were a song that howled with arrhythmic heartbeats and a never-ending bridge. But I wanted us to be the chorus. The good part. The catchy part that stayed with you forever.

I’m Reed.” “Halley. Like the comet.

My heart shrank. She was mine. She would always be mine. But not everything we were given was meant to be kept.

She’d let me do anything. Even break her heart.

My Wonderwall.

Love is weak. Love is selfish. It’s not this fairy-tale illusion of candy hearts and paper flowers. It’s messy and painful. But it’s always worth it.

listen to me. when something breaks you, you pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. maybe it’s with stitches and glue sticks, but it’s enough to keep going. nobody needs to stay broken.

Confidence is like a muscle,” I told him. “It needs consistent exercise. The more you practice, the stronger it becomes. It’s not about eliminating self-doubt entirely—it’s about pushing through it.

Not everyone could scoop up their trauma in two shaking hands and mold it into something worth holding. Her pain was clay, taking on a new form, a new shape. One day, it could become her greatest masterpiece.

Slowly, Halley slid her fingers from my mouth, dusting them along my bottom lip as she lowered her hand. With a half-lidded stare, skin flushed red, and dynamite in her eyes, she murmured huskily, “Now you know.” Now I know.

Falling for you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed through the anguish. “Everything else? Painful. Torturous. Difficult beyond belief. But loving you…” The anger died out, flatlining to a dead pulse. “Effortless.

had to figure out how to live through that fear and pain going forward. And that’s the key—living through it, not in it. You recognize it, you channel it, you don’t try to smother it. There is no weakness in fear. You just can’t let it dictate your next move.

hope you find someone who complements you in every way, who gives you strength and courage, who fights for you tooth and nail, no matter the consequences, and who loves every single piece of you. Even the sad pieces. Even the ugly pieces you try to keep buried.

It was fascinating the way human beings tended to living things; how we could nurture something so fiercely, all while knowing it was going to die. Just a little more water, we’d say. Better sunlight. A silent wish for a few more good days. But it didn’t matter. Every hearty, thriving thing carried with it the certainty of an expiration date. Nothing lived forever. Even love. And still, we allowed it to bloom. We breathed life into it, while simultaneously whispering our last goodbye. Some goodbyes just came far too soon.

So, yes…I love you. I love you fiercely, wholly, selfishly and unselfishly, more than I ever fucking should. I love everything about you, from your smile, to your perfect heart, to the way your hair always slips from your ponytail when you’re running or sparring and hides those eyes I’ve been enamored with since the moment I first saw you. I love how you take every picture like it’s the only one you’ll ever take, how you love like it’s simply a way of life, and how you cook from your soul because it makes everyone around you so goddamn happy. I love the strength you pulled from nothing, from bare bones and rock bottom, and how you choose to dance through life with grace and courage, finding music in every soundless shadow, when anyone else would have laid down and died.

Are you here to save me?” Another kiss landed on my hairline, and he lingered there, squeezing me tighter, exhaling ragged breaths against my skin. “You never needed saving, Halley. You were never lost.” “I was,” I cried. “I was lost when you found me, and I’ll be lost when you leave me.” “No.” He kissed my forehead, my tear-tipped lashes, my quivering upper lip. “You were searching for something you already had.

Are you lost?” I whirled around, water sloshing at my legs and disbelief pounding between my ribs. What? It couldn’t be. I was imagining him. Blinking rapidly, I pressed a hand to my chest, squeezing reality back into my heart. I gaped, jaw-dropped and legs-wobbling. “Reed.” He stood on the shore, his hands hidden in the pockets of his dark-wash jeans. He’d be too far away for me to make out the color of his eyes, but I’d already memorized the precise shade of pale-verdant green. We gazed at each other across the barren beach. When he took a small step forward, I swallowed hard, in a daze. “Do I look lost?” “A little.

Comet, You told me a story once. You were standing in the kitchen making a taco casserole, wearing a fuzzy sweater that matched your eyes. It was a story about a bunny. When you were young, a little rabbit had found its way into your garage, injured and bleeding. You wanted to save it. You wanted to give it a second chance at life. Unfortunately, the story didn’t end well, and I wished so hard that I could go back in time and help you save that bunny. Since my powers are limited, I did what I could. Meet Hoppity. I hope that when you look at it, hold it, set it on your shelf, you think of me. I hope it serves as a constant reminder of your beautiful heart and the way it changes people. The way it changed me. You changed me, Halley, in all the best ways. Let this be your second chance at life. Take risks. Take opportunities. Take pictures that hang in galleries one day, so everyone can see your talent, your beauty, your immeasurable worth. Fight. Fight for you, for your future. Not with fists and kicks, but with what you’ve always fought best with: love. The night I met you, you sat down in a cold lake and said, “You’re welcome.” I said I didn’t thank you for anything and you replied with, “You might one day.” You were right. Thank you, Halley Foster. You’ve made me a better man. Reed

Yes.” Reed stopped pacing, coming to a dead stop a few feet away. He stared at me, jaw clenched tight, hands balled even tighter. “Yes, Halley, I’m in love with you. I think I proved that when I threw myself under the bus and completely destroyed my relationship with my daughter to protect you. To keep her from hating you,” he gritted out. “So, yes…I love you. I love you fiercely, wholly, selfishly and unselfishly, more than I ever fucking should. I love everything about you, from your smile, to your perfect heart, to the way your hair always slips from your ponytail when you’re running or sparring and hides those eyes I’ve been enamored with since the moment I first saw you. I love how you take every picture like it’s the only one you’ll ever take, how you love like it’s simply a way of life, and how you cook from your soul because it makes everyone around you so goddamn happy. I love the strength you pulled from nothing, from bare bones and rock bottom, and how you choose to dance through life with grace and courage, finding music in every soundless shadow, when anyone else would have laid down and died.” He choked out the last words, emotion catching in his throat as his chest puffed with the weight of each breath. “Now…tell me how that changes anything.

but as the man he promised me he’d be. The fighter. The warrior. “You deserve to have someone in your corner, fighting like hell for you. For your honor, your worth. I want to be that person. I’ll be that guy…even if that’s all I’ll ever be.

Once upon a time, I thought I missed her. But it was she who’d missed out on me. Not all mothers were meant to be caretakers. Not all monsters were meant to be rehabilitated. And not all love stories were meant to last. Finally, I dropped back to my seat and shook my head, turning to Scotty as I buckled my seatbelt. “I’m ready now.

you’re too young to be so jaded” - “am I? I wish that were true. but being jaded doesn’t come with age; it comes with hardship. and hardship can blow through like a stormfront, destroying everything in a blink. five years old, fifteen, fifty. doesn’t matter. once you’re caught in the funnel, you never stop spinning out.

the next moment always sounds better than the one I’m in.

„and when you lose something in the wake of betrayal, it’s like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. no matter how hard you try, it’s slip’s through the cracks, leaving you with nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

it’s not weakness. it’s strength of its own. facing your fears, embracing your emotions - it doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human.

when she was bright and happy, I was drawn to her laughter-lit smiles and the bounce in her step. when she was sullen and self-deprecating, I was desperate to scrub the soot off her skin and bring her back to life. it was a goddamn seesaw of destructive emotion, and she was tearing me in half.

beautiful things don’t last.

but easy love is overrated. hard love means you have to fight, and when you’re fighting, it means you have something worth fighting for. and that’s beautiful. that’s everything. […] I want you to fight. for me. for us. for our relationship that I miss so damn much.

but in the game of forbidden love, someone always lost. I just never thought it would be all of us.

you keep answering my questions with questions.” - “that’s how we find answers.

he hummed the chorus of wanderwall, knowing there were no more walls standing between us. no more barricades. just the open expanse of our shared horizon, painted with the colors of hard-fought love.

being jaded doesn’t come with age; it comes with hardship. And hardship can blow through like a stormfront, destroying everything in a blink. Five years old, fifteen, fifty. Doesn’t matter. Once you’re caught in the funnel, you never stop spinning out.

MMMBop poured from the speakers,

He’d left without a backward glance. Without a goodbye. I stood rooted in place, even though every part of me wanted to run after him, apologize, and beg him to wait for me. After all… I would only be getting older.

Older doesn’t translate to wiser, and age doesn’t guarantee answers.

Feelings change and ebb, but lost time is irreversible.

Fear is a disease. It’s paralyzing. The only antidote is believing in your resilience. Every challenge is a chance to prove your strength.

Love alone wasn't always enough to keep us safe. Sometimes, it was our ultimate undoing.

Either path we chose felt like death, but this death was sweeter.

All I could do was wait. Reed had given me a lifeline. But I wanted a lifetime.

I gripped the edge of the mottled mattress as a leather belt whipped across my bare back. My punishment was ten lashes and an early bedtime with no supper. My crime? Love. I loved more than I should have. I loved all things, big and small.

Father didn’t love me; Mom didn’t love me enough.

Life is like photography. You need the negatives to develop. —Ziad K. Abdelnour

Everything was hollow. Everything except for my heart. And having an abundant heart in a hollow world was an affliction I was helpless to overcome.

Relationships are overrated. Love is nothing but a building block for collapse. A stepping stone for tripping and stumbling into a black hole you can’t climb out of it.

But being jaded doesn’t come with age; it comes with hardship. And hardship can blow through like a stormfront, destroying everything in a blink. Five years old, fifteen, fifty. Doesn’t matter. Once you’re caught in the funnel, you never stop spinning out.

So, you hate peanut butter, house parties, and love. What do you like?” “I like you.

When Reed spoke, his voice was rough. “You don’t know me well enough to like me.” “Yeah.” I stared at him, held his gaze. “Maybe that’s why I do.

I would have taken you back to my apartment,” I said darkly, teeth gritted, my fist still tangled in her hair. “And we wouldn’t have made it to the bedroom before I knew what your pussy tasted like.” We both froze.

Breathing raggedly, he gripped his cock, pumping a few times with his fist as he centered himself with my hole. One white-knuckled hand was still clamped around my knee as he pushed inside me, just an inch, an agonizing slow slide. Reed’s mouth fell open as he watched us come together, watched me stretch and yield to his thickness. My fingertips dug into the mat on either side of me as I panted, on the brink of another orgasm before he even filled me to the hilt. “Jesus, Halley…” Hissing out my name, he leaned farther over me, planting one hand on the mat as he pulled out, then slid back in halfway. “You’re so fucking tight.” I

Do you like tragic things? Are you drawn to the ghosts in my eyes?

I hope you find someone who complements you in every way, who gives you strength and courage, who fights for you tooth and nail, no matter the consequences, and who loves every single piece of you. Even the sad pieces. Even the ugly pieces you try to keep buried.

Growing old with the one you love was an underrated treasure. Aging was frightening. Death was an ominous certainty that nipped at our ankles. But the journey to the other side of this life with someone who held your heart, who shared your dreams and fears, who knew you in the deepest corners of your soul, was a privilege beyond measure. It was a promise of companionship through every storm. And as Reed’s words encompassed me like a comforting embrace, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, we would face it together.

Reed finally turned his head to look at me as he brushed a thumb across my knuckles. “I needed a moment with you,” he said, every word braided with torment. “Just for a minute.

It was fascinating the way human beings tended to living things; how we could nurture something so fiercely, all while knowing it was going to die. Just a little more water, we’d say. Better sunlight. A silent wish for a few more good days. But it didn’t matter. Every hearty, thriving thing carried with it the certainty of an expiration date.

We’re all capable of screwing up, but we’re all capable of forgiving, too. That’s what makes us stronger humans.

I’m always running. But I’m running in circles, and it’s exhausting, and it’s endless, and I just want to be free.

You have me, Reed. Take me.

Yes, Halley, I’m in love with you. I think I proved that when I threw myself under the bus and completely destroyed my relationship with my daughter to protect you. To keep her from hating you,” he gritted out. “So, yes…I love you. I love you fiercely, wholly, selfishly and unselfishly, more than I ever fucking should. I love everything about you, from your smile, to your perfect heart, to the way your hair always slips from your ponytail when you’re running or sparring and hides those eyes I’ve been enamored with since the moment I first saw you.

You know I love you. But that’s not always enough.” “It has to be. We’ll make it so.” “We don’t have that kind of power, Comet. We don’t fit.

When you’re always fearing the next moment, you tend to appreciate the good ones while you have them.

Panic attacks were no joke. It had felt like I was dying, suffocating, drowning. For a moment, I’d wanted to.

I’ve just always wanted to do this.” “Do what?” He reached out and clasped my hand, linking our fingers together. “Hold your hand in public.

A deep-rooted part of me had always wanted to foster children one day. The forgotten. The unloved. The homeless and abused. It was a blooming desire that grew wings with every passing day. Reed was fully supportive of the idea, so a year into our whirlwind relationship, we fostered newborn twins that had been pulled from a drug-addled home: a girl and a boy. Mina and Jayce. Mina meant “love,” and Jayce meant “to heal.

Reed had asked me to marry him in the fall of 2000. Of course, I’d said yes. It was a simple ceremony at a local lake with our closest friends and family, and Monique had been overjoyed to capture our blissful day, leaving me on the other side of the camera for once.

Now, we had gold rings on our fingers, a home we owned and cherished, and two precious babies who blessed us daily. We had it all. Growing old with the one you love was an underrated treasure. Aging was frightening. Death was an ominous certainty that nipped at our ankles. But the journey to the other side of this life with someone who held your heart, who shared your dreams and fears, who knew you in the deepest corners of your soul, was a privilege beyond measure.

Saving lives was no small feat; I didn’t even know how to save my own.

My brain was failing me. Everything was failing me.

When you’re a parent, you’re consciously aware that these days are ahead, destined to find you. You try to prepare, and you think you’ll be ready, but it’s not possible. These moments always seem so damn far away at the time, and then—bam. No more piggyback rides, no more swimming lessons, no more birthday cake painting the walls. It’s like I blinked and you were older.

Because at the end of the day, when faced with real fear, I was going to succumb. I was going to drown in it.

It was fascinating the way human beings tended to living things; how we could nurture something so fiercely, all while knowing it was going to die. Just a little more water, we’d say. Better sunlight. A silent wish for a few more good days. But it didn’t matter. Every hearty, thriving thing carried with it the certainty of an expiration date. Nothing lived forever. Even love. And still, we allowed it to bloom. We breathed life into it, while simultaneously whispering our last goodbye. Some goodbyes just came far too soon.

Once upon a time, I thought I missed her. But it was she who’d missed out on me. Not all mothers were meant to be caretakers. Not all monsters were meant to be rehabilitated. And not all love stories were meant to last.

Damn. Who pissed you off?” Scotty materialized in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame, arms folded. I sent him a sidelong glance, hardly faltering as the bag pendulated in front of me. “Today?” I answered through a hard exhale. “Bob Ross.” “Impossible.” “It is possible. His trees are way too happy. It’s unrealistic and offensive to the sad trees.

Jared Leto was a babe.

I was the main character in my own life, and I refused- refused- to fall secondary to the villain.

Life’s fleeting blips. The ones that seem insignificant at the time, but later on, they mean everything.

I wished the cold night would only go as far as my ice-glazed window pane, but winter always had a way of sneaking through the cracks and burrowing in my bones. It was a permanent chill. One I’d never warm to, no matter how many layers I tried to add.

I wasn’t actually ready to die. Hope still lingered.

Everyone gets a moment. A moment that tested us, defined us, shaped us. One that showed us who we really were. The real us, down to the marrow. Not that superficial bullshit we flaunted to meaningless passersby who filtered in and out of our lives like transient ghosts. Every goddamn one of us got a moment.

If someone were to grab me in a dark alleyway, I’d be as proactive as a sack of rice.

Lost things don’t have to stay lost forever. They can be found.” I wanted to believe that. Maybe I just wanted to believe that I could be found.

Nobody has the right to judge you unless they’ve been in your shoes.