But there were worse things than disappointment, and I’d lived through several of them already.
I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose.
Dark chocolate, poured over velvet: that was how his voice tasted. I wanted him to follow me around and narrate the rest of my life.
What would happen if you stopped fighting, and gave yourself permission to feel? Not just the good things, but everything?
I disliked numbers, and they didn’t think much of me either.
I might not be ready to pour out my feelings to the world, but I’d had enough of trying to ignore them.