She took the sun when it came and the rain the same way.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last few months, it’s that sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump.
During this time we’ve been apart, it’s you I’ve thought of when I’m at my weakest, and you who have pulled me through.
So I left him there alone to watch history repeat the same events retold again and again on his own.
But there was something I liked about the idea of those seeds buried so deep having at least a chance to emerge.
Everything hurt. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek to the street, and waited. What for, I didn’t know. To be rescued. Or found. But no one came. All I’d ever thought I wanted was to be left alone. Until I was.
I tried to hold myself apart, showing only what I wanted, doling out bits and pieces of who I was. But that only works out for so long. Eventually, even the smallest fragments can’t help but, make a whole.
But when you’re alone in the world, really alone, you have no choice but to be open to suggestions.
Because maybe, the best of times were yet to come. You never knew.
I mean, to me, freaking out is different. More of a running away, not telling anyone what’s wrong, slowly simmering until you burst kind of thing.
When you can’t save yourself or your heart, it helps to be able to save face.
If only you could really use a fail-proof system to know who was worth keeping and who needed to be thrown away. It would make it so much easier to move through the world, picking and choosing what connections to make, or whether to make any at all.
I sat up, sliding them off, and the quiet around me did not, for once, seem empty and vast. Instead, for the first time in a while, it felt like it already was full.
I’m starting to think, though, that some things never get that. The replay, and all. So at some point you have to make peace with it as it is, not keep waiting for a chance to change it.
When you have a kid, you sign on for the whole package: good, bad, everything in between. you can’t just dip in and out, picking and choosing the parts you want and quitting when it’s not perfect.
It’s funny how two people can grow up in the same town, go to the same school, have the same friends, and end up so totally different. Family, or lack of it, counts for more than you’d think.
That’s the thing about someone who rarely gets upset: when they do, you notice.
Again, it occurred to me how weird it was to be permanent in a place that to everyone else was only temporary. Like I could never be sure if they were the ones who weren’t real, or if I was.
But as was so often the case, it was the one person missing who you thought about more than the ones who were right in front of you.
I always thought I was different.