Still Beating

by Jennifer Hartmann

“You know, I used to joke that we’d probably end up killing each other one day,” he murmurs, kicking at a small rock near his sneaker. “I guess I always had a feeling we’d go together.”

Now thats some dark humor

It’s impossible to go back to the way we were because we aren’t those people anymore. We’ve been through too much. We’ve seen too much.

We are bound, chained, tied—to our trauma and to each other. We’re in this together. And yet, I’ve never felt more alone.

“You were only down there for three weeks, Dean,” Mandy continues, still avoiding my eyes. “I thought you would… you know, bounce back by now.” Only three weeks.

What a dumb bitch

It was only three weeks, but it’s burned into every cell, every vein, every tainted pocket of my soul. Forever. And so is she.

What the fuck are we? We’ll never be friends. We’re no longer enemies. We can’t be lovers. Where does that leave us?

Maybe we aren’t something meant to be labeled. We transcend titles. And that, I fear, is the most powerful thing of all.

“Every love story is worth writing, no matter how messy it might be,” Holly says absently, still stroking my hair. “I would like to read your book.”

You can’t tiptoe around your heart in fear of pissing people off or hurting their feelings. Sometimes we need to be a little selfish in order to avoid a life of complacency.”

“Also… just between you and me? If roles were reversed, Mandy wouldn’t hesitate.”

I concur

love doesn’t exist without sacrifice. Sometimes those sacrifices are waking up ten minutes early to make your partner coffee. Sometimes it’s taking on a second job to support your family. Sometimes it’s staying up all night with a newborn so your significant other can finally sleep. Sometimes it’s shoveling the other person’s car out of the driveway after a snowstorm.” She places her palm against my wet cheek and smiles softly. “And sometimes it’s making the ultimate sacrifice and walking away for the greater good.”

Maybe love is singing her favorite song in the dark, just so she can sleep. Maybe love is giving away the shoes on your feet to help keep her warm. Maybe love is coming over in the middle of the night when the power goes out because you know she’s afraid of the dark.

And maybe love is walking away because it’s the only way she’ll find the light again.

We can’t give our heart to another without loving our own first.

Insertion is inevitable.”

Found my new tag line