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If a person cannot leave a mark, do they exist?
You want to be loved. You want to be enough.
Henry, you haven’t been you. You waste so much time on people who don’t deserve you. People who don’t know you, because you don’t let them know you.”
what every artist saw, what drew them to their pencils and their paint, this impossible, uncatchable girl. And even though he’s safe, both feet firmly on the ground, Henry feels himself begin to fall.
They look at you and see whatever they want … Because they don’t see you at all.
“You can’t make people love you, Hen. If it’s not a choice, it isn’t real.”
she doesn’t see perfect. She sees someone who cares too much, who feels too much, who is lost, and hungry, and wasting inside his curse.
For the first time, he feels seen.
Everything changes, foolish girl. It is the nature of the world. Nothing stays the same.
“Because happiness is brief, and history is lasting, and in the end,” he says, “everyone wants to be remembered.”
“Nothing is all good or all bad,” she says. “Life is so much messier than that.”
That time always ends a second before you’re ready. That life is the minutes you want minus one.
but his heart will thrill at the thought of other people reading these words—not his, but hers, of her name carried from lips to lips, from mind to memory.
