“Much of that afternoon remains an intense blur: Maybe extremes of pleasure and pain are just too much for the memory to handle, which is why we forget. ” — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“I realised I was tiring of our games, fed up with trying to second guess his motives, weary of trying to hold myself aloof… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“We were supposed to be having a serious conversation about where we were headed - or indeed why we were headed nowhere - but… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“Everywhere was filled with painful, jarring reminders of what I'd lost: an elderly couple sitting on a bench, gnarly, arthritic fingers interlaced; a handsome… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“Isn't this more about how two people can read a situation in two completely different ways? I've been resisting the urge to build castles… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
I want to build you a house with my bare hands and carry you over the threshold. I want too cook for you every evening and bring you tea in bed in the mornings. I want to read with you in front of an open fire, sipping a glass of wine. I want to drive you to the beach and… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share
“Oh yes, We've all danced to this particular tune at one time in our lives. In my experience, the majority of women are hopeless… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“I decided however fleeting, however short lived these sensations might be, I was determined to savor them while they lasted, without pushing for more… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“I needed reassurance from the doubts that were beginning to surface in my mind since I'd first given voice to them in conversation with… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“The reason for my discomfort was simple. Our story - however romantic I could make it sound in my head - sometimes sounded a little tawdry in the re-telling. There was no escaping the fact that I'd been living with the father of my child when we met; that I'd cheated on him, then left; that what James and I… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share
Our break-up had been a resounding anti-climax. I wanted to be wept over, bitterly. I wanted to be fought for. Mourned, or regretted just… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
“By writing this, knowing that there was a chance he'd read it, i was up to my old tricks. Was I not sending an… — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
Music from my iPod was setting my life to a dramatic soundtrack that only I could hear. — Catherine Sanderson Copy Share Image
