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She’s the day. Sunshine. Brightness. All-encompassing warmth. Lending a helping hand whenever needed. Someone people look to for solace, for comfort and joy.
Maybe Jack is a little broken, too. Maybe we’re two people who have gone through life wondering if we’re good enough. Maybe we’re not as different as I thought we were.
It's overwhelming how reckless she makes me feel.
It’s intimidating to offer yourself up to another person. To stand on a platform with your arms outstretched and yell, hey, look at me! Am I doing okay? when you often think you’re floundering through life, caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella.
“When it comes to your well-being, Josephine, I’m going to be as bossy as I want. That is non-negotiable.
“Because thinking about you not being taken care of makes me want to burn the world down.”
I haven’t held someone’s hand in years, and a surge goes through me at the touch. It’s a key going into a lock, and for the first time since I can remember, I feel like I can breathe.
“You are distracting. Positively maddening in the best way, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Even if you aren’t whole yet, even if the pieces aren’t back together, you’re trying. Sometimes, that’s what is most important. Sometimes, trying is half the battle.”
“No more faking?” “No. From here on out, it’s real. Everything we say is real.”
