Ready or Not

by Cara Bastone

(back when we thought that being dream-adjacent was as good as being dream-fulfilled).

How to explain that sometimes being nice hurts?

“Sometimes our bodies take charge of us.

“Thank you for…” I say to my parents, resting so well together. For having me. Raising me. Deciding I was meant to be a part of your lives. “Just, thank you.”

“Tell me,” he says. And what a charming thing to say. In a world full of evasions, a simple tell me is refreshing.

Questions require answers. But fears? They require camaraderie.

There should be a rule against your work life and private life both being in shambles. One shamble at a time, please!

Pleaseeeee

Sometimes the good news hurts more than the bad.

Sometimes the bad feels better than the good.

It’s her celebration of courage and failure and letting life beat you up because you decide to really try.

“It hurts to realize that the world is so much bigger and more complicated than you thought it was. It’ll always hurt.”

It’s a web and—God, what a perfect system because—each of us is somebody’s favorite.

Cries

No more passive acceptance of my situation. This is my life, on purpose.

Period

My heart is leading a marching band.

Sometimes hope can feel like pressure, you know?

She told me that love, if you keep it all closed up and try to stuff it down, it turns into resentment and anger. It turns sour.

but this person is everythingeverythingeverything.

I feel as new as Miriam. The person I was nine months ago is gone.

Exactly how motherhood is.

I’m just a little raw. And who wouldn’t be? I’ve been blinked into existence, grown and protected by those who love me, and then that little nugget Miriam cracked open my shell and brought me here, to my new life.

Omg please!!!! 😭😭😭😭