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“Life left you empty so that you’d have room to fill it. We are only hollow if we allow ourselves to remain that way.”
Death isn’t the enemy. It’s time.
I’ve always believed love is like water, the way it flows between bodies and souls. You can’t stop the flow of it because one pathway is closed off. It just finds another exit.
I actually want to laugh at the sick joke the universe has decided to play on me. I’m the never-ending punchline, apparently. I give and give, yet all it wants to do is take.
Sad life, isn’t it? Unable to laugh unless I’m drowning in chemicals.
‘Cause even though two nights ago I watched him force a man to swallow a bottle of medicine and proceed to push him off a bridge into icy water because he’d attempted to drug his girlfriend, Rook’s heart is gentle.
In art, you’re given permission to be the ugliest version of yourself just so you can make something beautiful from it.
She took with her a piece of me that no one will ever have again. It’s hers to keep—I’d never take it away from her. It took time to realize that moving on, grieving, didn’t take away the love I had for her.
healing from her loss wasn’t me trying to forget her. It was a way of honoring her. A way of maybe helping her find peace in the afterlife, knowing I’m okay here without her.
In the beginning, breathing hurt without her. Waking up, knowing she’d never open her eyes again, made it physically impossible to inhale and exhale. Like oxygen was a reminder that I was alive and she was not. I sometimes hate that it’s easier now. That time has, in fact, made the loss of her hurt less.
With pain comes remembrance. The throb and ache of loss is a constant reminder of the person who no longer exists. When you hurt, you remember everything so clearly because the pain forces you to. When you stop hurting, you forget. The wound slowly stops oozing, skin pulling together and creating a scar. One that sometimes itches or pricks, reminding you it’s there, but in the day to day, you barely know it’s there.
I’ve been walking on a tightrope, and he’s become this steady net beneath me. For some reason always there when my mind spirals and the world moves too fast.
