You know better. You’re so mature.′ Now I’m wondering if maybe those compliments took something away from me. Not anything dramatic, like my entire childhood, but the ability to try things out. To fail.
Talking about him was hard, but not talking was worse. So often, I’m trapped between the pain of remembering and the fear of forgetting.
My problems are not in the same country as hers and Ima’s. They’re not on the same map. Does that make them less valid?
If I have time, I can schedule a panic attack right before the cake cutting.
I am fine. I am great. I am the coolest of cucumbers. I have taken the chillest of pills.
He’s wearing Seattle’s official flag, a plaid flannel shirt.
God bless my rigorous workout routine.
Artoo. Hey. We’ll figure it out.
People say they want something serious, but as soon as it starts heading that way, they bolt. Either they’re lying or they realise they don’t want something serious with me.
Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner for the word most likely to kill the romance. Congratulations, crusty.
Time. That’s what I’ve been chasing all day, this notion that after tonight, after graduation, none of us will be in the same city again. The things that mattered to us for the past four years will shift and evolve, and I imagine they’ll keep doing that forever. It’s terrifying.
We can’t keep meeting like this.
Rowan,” says the girl, and the guy whose mother just got married introduces himself as Neil. I’m not sure how long he and Rowan have been together, but they can’t seem to stop touching each other.
Neil and Rowan exchange a look. “It took a lot to get here,” he says, and I get the sense there’s a deeper story there, one that isn’t the kind you tell during a first conversation with someone.
When he grins, it’s bright enough to light up the night sky. It’s kind of beautiful.
I let it sink in, trying to be okay with that uncertainty. As much as I’ve idealized the happily-ever-after, I can’t deny that he’s right. Today isn’t my epilogue with Neil-it’s a beginning. I’ll leave the happily-ever-afters in the books.
It’s not until I lean back in the seat, waiting for my car to warm up, that the scent of his hoodie hits me. Its smells good, and I wonder if its detergent or just the natural scent of Neil, one I’ve never really paid attention to before. I guess I’ve never really been close enough to notice. I’m stunned by how much I don’t hate it, so much so that it makes me light-headed for a split second.
I didn’t want to go off the rails, but I wanted to get close enough to see what was on the other side of them.
We could talk about anything- that was the first sign. I loved the person I was when I was with him, and we had the same values. Of course, that didn’t mean there weren’t things that annoyed me about him. No one’s perfect, obviously. But those things didn’t matter when I considered everything that made me love him.
But if there’s anything I’ve learned about depression, it’s that it is an intensely personal journey, one that never really ends.