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he’d never been able to fight the sleep, not when he was sad or hurt, and right now, the pain was so bad he felt like snakes were clawing their way out of him. He was hot, too. His view of the moon was shrinking.
Maybe that’s what family was. Not the people you’d been born to but the people you’d do the right thing for no matter what it cost you. The people you’d risk everything to protect.
“you’re not responsible for what other people do. I know it feels like you should have done more, and it always might, but the truth is you did what you could when you were able.
My mind wanders from coincidences to the invisible weights every one of us carries, whether we acknowledge them or not, how similar burdens tend to draw people together across space and time.
Coincidences, the weight we carry, what draws us to people.
The way we lie to ourselves that shared secrets are the same thing as love.
