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A mother passes me, and I offer a friendly smile to the toddler seated in the front of the cart. The little girl thrashes her floaties-covered arms about, filling the aisle with uninhibited giggles. The world hasn’t hurt her yet, and I want to beg her mother to shield her from what’s to come.
Socializing is fun in theory, but most of the time it just feels exhausting. Sometimes it even gives me a headache.
it’s a funeral. It’s supposed to be sad.” She contemplates that for a second. “No.” She shakes her head. “When I die, I don’t want people to be wrapped up in their sadness. I want them to remember the happy stuff. I want them to remember that I made them laugh. Made them dance.”
“Nothing we can do. No matter how much you love someone, you can’t save them from drowning.
They have to love themselves enough to learn how to swim.”
There’s something about listening to Bon Iver when everything is cold and barren that just feels right.
