The Playlist Morgan Elizabeth Quotes

To the Swifties who found themselves somewhere between the bridge and the chorus and let that shape how they see love and life. Long Live.

Because the right place to start when having a mental breakdown is with a killer fucking playlist.

I was raised on The Notebook and fairy tales and Taylor Swift. It’s hard not to idealize dumb things, I guess.

The first time I fell in love with Zoe, she was scream singing a Taylor Swift song in my parents' living room while my sister Luna laughed at her. At least, I think that's the first time. It's happened so many times now.

I never grew up.

Gorgeous,

paper rings

the radio singing about a mirror ball

Can I ask you a question?

Your reputation precedes you,

Sometimes, the world gives you people that, from the start, you know they’ll be there forever.

I don't know much about the universe except that it's never steered me wrong because it's always directed me to you.

right where he left me,

fucked in the head,

Baby, let the games begin.

The first time I fell in love with Zoe, she was scream singing a Taylor Swift song in my parents’ living room while my sister Luna laughed at her. At least, I think that’s the first time.  It’s happened so many times now.

The idea that someone is so crazy for you they want to drop everything and dance in the parking lot or kiss in the rain. I was raised on The Notebook and fairy tales and Taylor Swift. It’s hard not to idealize dumb things, I guess.

Wanting a man to dance with you in a parking lot because he’s so fucking in love with you he can’t wait to get you home and into his arms isn’t childish. Thinking you’re too manly to pull over and give your girl that? That’s childish.

Even when we were kids, you were one of my favorite people on Earth, Zoe. When you’re home, even though shit was tense sometimes, I fuckin’ love spending time with you. We laugh. We chat. We talk. It’s always been that way. Pretend it’s just a little bit more. That’s it.

Zoe, I like every fucking version of you: the princess who used to chase me around with a wand and try to turn me into a toad, the version that sang karaoke in my living room like she didn’t care who was watching, the version that wrote in diaries about how big of a crush she had on me then left them under my little sister’s bed.”  She tries to pull her head back, to escape—from embarrassment or to yell at me, I don’t know—but I hold her head in place, continuing. “I love the version that keeps a ticket from a concert we went to fifteen years ago. I love the version that wants everyone to see her value, and I fucking love the version who jumped into her car to go on a random road trip with me. I love the version that doesn’t want me to get crumbs in her damn Jeep, and I love the version that gave in when I told her I needed food. I love the version that remembers crazy things we did as kids because that means we have memories together since the beginning.” Her head tries to move, her voice starting to protest with my name, but I press it in more.  “You keep pretending, Zoe. You keep living in this road trip ideal world where this is all fun, and we can figure out the details later, but know that I’m not pretending. This is us. This is me and you, and I’m not turning back.

Chaotic is beautiful.

Because you’re mine and I take care of what’s mine.

I want to know to my bones that whoever I finally land with was meant to be mine from the day I was brought on this Earth.

Stability doesn’t always equate to happiness or fulfillment

There is no universe where my panties make it out of this room alive.

jacking his cock while staring at me touching myself.

Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you touch yourself.

Panties off, climb on,

The kind of hair a man dreams about wrapping around his fist.

His hard cock bobs in front of me,

Should have known,

I can see it now:

fuck the patriarchy

dancing in the kitchen

The real version of you is so far buried beneath other’s expectations, I thought there was a chance she was gone forever, Zoe. But then you questioned it all and threw away what you knew, and I got a glimpse of her. That Zoe? That Zoe is the one I fell for when I was 23, and I begged her to let me give us a chance. That one has been coming out little by little again, shining just a bit in the sun. I fucking miss that Zoe. That Zoe? That Zoe I would sit up at two AM and have ridiculous conversations with. That Zoe would point out stars and make her own constellations. That Zoe sat in a photo booth with me and giggled like she didn’t care who heard her snort-laugh.” I can see her eyes go wide from the corner of my vision, and I smile.  “But that Zoe started to fade that night when I picked you up. I watched for over a year, watched her disappear.

Stop. Stop with the excuses. Stop with the denials. This is something. Always has been. The universe decided this week was our time, and here we are. I don’t know much about the universe except that it’s never steered me wrong because it’s always directed me to you.

I shake my head at her before looking to the sky, begging God to give me the strength to deal with this handful of a woman.  A goddamn handful. But a handful I’ll hold on to as long as she’ll let me.

You don’t get that the need I feel to keep you safe has absolutely nothing to do with your father, Zoe.

Yeah, it is,” he says, and when I look at him, I realize he isn’t looking at the sky at all.  His eyes are on me.

Take the leap, Zoe,” he says, repeating the words he said when I was five, and I can almost see the memory playing in his eyes as well. “Take the leap and live unplanned for a week with me.

I’ve spent my entire life categorizing your likes and dislikes, waiting for the moment you’d let me in.

That’s what this is, Zoe. This is a week for you to remember how to live your life. A week of no plans, no phone calendar. No fuckin’ self-help books. A week of making crumbs in your car and cleaning them out when we get home because it will not make or break your life. A week of doing spontaneous shit just because it’s fun.

What are you doing to me?” I whisper against his lips.  “Whatever it takes to convince you to be mine,” he says, and my heart stops.  “Zee, I’ve been yours for as long as I can remember,” I confess because it’s the truth, and in this moment, I only have the truth as an option.

To wanting the man who goes to the diner on Sunday mornings because he knows his mom is struggling with being alone.  The man who took on the peewee team because he knew those boys needed a role model.  The man who will always take on an extra shift to cover for someone else because he thinks their families are more important than him living the bachelor life. The man who once again proves we’re always on the same wavelength.

Because the right place to start when having a mental breakdown is with a killer fucking playlist.

Marjorie,

Luna, I’m lying in my bed, staring at a goddamned One Direction poster on my ceiling.” Luna chokes out a laugh. “Is Harry hot?” “In the photo, he is quite literally a child, so no.

Don’t play stupid, Davidson. You gonna grow a pair and put a ring on my little girl’s finger?

Girl jail, which is a million times worse than real jail, trust me.

No one wants to find their person and settle, you know? But life doesn’t wait. It keeps moving, even if you stop.

A goddamn handful. But a handful I’ll hold on to as long as she’ll let me.

We didn’t make separate boxes for each of us because, in our heads, our lives would be intertwined for eternity as best friends forever, so what was the point?