There were so many things I had loved as my own, and these things never ended up being mine. All of the glass lights strung on other people’s porches, houseplants that were someone else’s, rugs and paintings and lighting fixtures and curtains and different men who looked different in every room, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the infinite ways to live a finite life.

The Adults | Alison Espach

We held hands and I remembered feeling something in the pit of my stomach, something like love or terror or the need to possess him, like a woman who is never and always alone, the terror of a woman who is in love all the time.

The Adults | Alison Espach

This novel is incredible and wonderful.