Emma Forrest
Emma Forrest
Emma Forrestis a British-American journalist, novelist and screenwriter. Born in London, she currently resides in Los Angeles...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionJournalist
Date of Birth26 December 1977
senior phones saving
Now that he's gone, I feel like I'm a senior citizen who gave away her life savings over the phone. And this is the crux: I never in my life believed in someone as much as I believed in him. The shame is overwhelming.
New York is the first place I have ever felt safe.
though
I'm not rich, though everybody thinks I am.
natalie people
I used to devour biographies of people like Natalie Wood and Marilyn.
ate bar consume icons loved shape shaped soap word
When I was old enough to know better, I ate a bar of soap in the shape of the Muppets' Fozzie Bear, because I loved him so much I wanted to consume him, even if doing so made me ill. I didn't yet know the word 'foreshadowing.' Fozzie was the only first of many pop-culture icons I feel shaped by.
people throwing whenever
The problem with writing a book about bulimia is that whenever you go to the washroom, people think you're throwing up.
looks
No one ever loved you like him. And no one ever took it away so completely. But it's here. Look around.
suicide sadness voice
What people don't understand when you've already been a suicide and pulled through is that after the sadness comes fear: Where is my mind going with this? I don't want to die. I do not want to die. When you don't have so much control over your own thoughts, over the myriad voices in your head, you don't know where they could go.
hurt pain heart
It's like he has emotional amnesia... I think you have to accept that the person you knew isn't there at the moment. I was witness to how much he loved you. I have the photos. This isn't the person we knew. I don't recognize this person. He's shed his skin." Her heart is broken too. She has to say the thing that will give me back my life. She draws on every reserve. I see how much it hurts her and it hurts me too. I came from her joy and her pain, I lived in it and I live in it now.
beautiful mean blessing
There is a blessing in losing the one we love. It's the blessing of self-transformation. You don't have to who you were anymore. You've struggled. And now you can change. It doesn't mean that bits of that person won't cling to you, they will throughout your life, but they are now subsumed into something greater. That person has given you, in fact, the most important blessing, which is they gave you the blessing of transforming your soul into something better, something more beautiful.
light darkness kind
I'm in love with someone good and kind and gentle, and he's seen the darkness too, but somehow we've become each other's light.
hate thinking voice
When you live with voices in your head, you are drawn inextricably to voices outside your head. Very often the voices work to confirm your worst suspicions. Or think of things you could never have imagined! There are only so many hours of the day to hate yourself.
matter courses
Of course he freaked me out. Of course it's nothing to do with me. But none of that matters. He loved me and now he doesn't. I was everything to him and now I am nothing.
pain people depth
People don't know. We don't know ourselves so we tell ourselves what we really know is other people. We could say the depth of pain we feel for the lovers who've left us is because we knew them so well.