This Girl (Slammed vol.3) de Colleen Hoover


In ultima vreme am constatat tendinta autoarelor de romane romantice sa scrie povestea intai din perspectiva personajului feminin, apoi din perspectiva personajului masculin. Adica…citesti cartea de doua ori, insa din perspective diferite ceea ce ajuta enorm sa intelegi mai bine anumite actiuni, reactii…..Alta tendinta este sa fie scrisa din ambele puncte de vedere, fiecare capitol reprezentand trairile fiecarui personaj pe rand…

Colleen Hoover a optat pentru a 3-a varianta: primul volum – Slammed a fost scris din perspectiva lui Lake, al doilea volum – Point of retreat – din perspectiva lui Will, iar al treilea – This Girl – este scris ca o discutie intre cei doi tineri casatoriti aflati in luna de miere: Lake intreaba, Will povesteste….dar si explica de ce a avut anumite reactii, de ce a actionat intr-un anume mod …

Imi place acest mod de scriere. L-am mai intalnit la Samantha Young in cartea Under the Fountain Bridge.

Imi place tocmai pentru ca rar se intampla sa aflam si motivarea din spatele unei actiuni….e ceva frumos si interesant sa afli cum gandeste unul dintre personaje.

Cartea aceasta reia practic primul volum, in care Will a avut actiuni pe care nu le-am inteles neaparat provocand fie ruptura, fie reuniunea celor doi indragostiti. In plus, aflam ca el s-a intalnit cu alta femeie in timp ce era certat cu Lake si asta chiar la indemnul si insistenta prietenilor lor comuni (Gavin si Eddie).

De asemenea, avem parte si de un epilog: la trei ani de la casatorie, cei doi au primul lor copil pe care il numesc Julie, in onoarea mamei lui Lake si Kel, care le-a fost alaturi chiar si dupa moartea sa intr-un mod ingenios: a scris diferite mesaje pe stelute puse intr-o vaza, le-a lasat diverse cadouri pentru urmatorii ani pe care urmau sa ii petreaca fara ea….

Mai jos redau Slam-ul scris de Will pentru fetita lui intitulat – My final piece

We’re born into the world
As just one small piece to the puzzle
That makes up an entire life.
It’s up to us throughout our years,
to find all of our pieces that fit.
The pieces that connect who we are
To who we were
To who we’ll one day be.
Sometimes pieces will almost fit.
They’ll feel right.
We’ll carry them around for a while,
Hoping they’ll change shape.
Hoping they’ll conform to our puzzle.
But they won’t.
We’ll eventually have to let them go.
To find the puzzle that is their home.
Sometimes pieces won’t fit at all.
No matter how much we want them to.
We’ll shove them.
We’ll bend them.
We’ll break them.
But what isn’t meant to be,
won’t be.
Those are the hardest pieces of all to accept.
The pieces of our puzzle
That just don’t belong.
But occasionally . . .
Not very often at all,
If we’re lucky,
If we pay enough attention,
We’ll find a
perfect match.
The pieces of the puzzle that slide right in
The pieces that hug the contours of our own pieces.
The pieces that lock to us.
The pieces that we lock to.
The pieces that fit so well, we can’t tell where our piece begins
And that piece ends.
Those pieces we call
Friends.
True loves.
Dreams.
Passions.
Beliefs.
Talents.
They’re all the pieces that complete our puzzles.
They line the edges,
Frame the corners,
Those pieces are the pieces that make us who we are.
Who we were.
Who we’ll one day be.
Up until today,
When I looked at my own puzzle,
I would see a finished piece.
I had the edges lined,
The corners framed,
The center filled.
It felt like it was complete.
All the pieces were therespan>.
I had everything I wanted.
Everything I needed.
Everything I dreamt of.
But up until today,
I realized I had collected all
but one piece.
The most vital piece.
The piece that completes the picture.
The piece that completes my whole life.
I held this girl in my arms
She wrapped her tiny fingers around mine.
It was then that I realized
She was the fusion.
The glue.
The cement that bound all my pieces together.
The piece that seals my puzzle.
The piece that completes my life.
The element that makes me who I am.
Who I was.
Who I’ll one day be.
You, baby girl.
You’re myfinal piece.

 

 

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