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by Jennifer Hartmann

Father didn’t love me; Mom didn’t love me enough. I guess that was why I loved too much. I had a lot of loveless holes to fill.

“Life is living. If you’re not living exactly the way you want to live, then what’s the fucking point?”

Everything was hollow. Everything except for my heart. And having an abundant heart in a hollow world was an affliction I was helpless to overcome.

Reed didn’t realize it, but as I took his hand and he tugged me up from the ugly brown carpeting of Jay Jennings’ bedroom floor, he took my whole life in his.

“Confidence is like a muscle,” I told him. “It needs consistent exercise. The more you practice, the stronger it becomes. It’s not about eliminating self-doubt entirely—it’s about pushing through it.”

When something breaks you, you pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. Maybe it’s with stitches and glue sticks, but it’s enough to keep going. Nobody needs to stay broken.”

“It’s not weakness. It’s a strength of its own. Facing your fears, embracing your emotions—it doesn't make you weak; it makes you human.”

I had to figure out how to live through that fear and pain going forward. And that’s the key—living through it, not in it. You recognize it, you channel it, you don’t try to smother it. There is no weakness in fear. You just can’t let it dictate your next move.”

The sounds he made as he ate me—animalistic, hungry, insatiable.

His cock hovered in front of my face, thick and throbbing, lined with blue veins and leaking from the tip.

“Every moment with you fucking hurts.” His voice was pure grit, words cracking and breaking. “Every moment without you…hurts so much more.”

It was fascinating the way human beings tended to living things; how we could nurture something so fiercely, all while knowing it was going to die.

The night I met you, you sat down in a cold lake and said, “You’re welcome.” I said I didn’t thank you for anything and you replied with, “You might one day.” You were right. Thank you, Halley Foster. You’ve made me a better man.

Imperfections are what bind us together. Our common thread. We’re all capable of screwing up, but we’re all capable of forgiving, too. That’s what makes us stronger humans.”

Growing old with the one you love was an underrated treasure. Aging was frightening. Death was an ominous certainty that nipped at our ankles. But the journey to the other side of this life with someone who held your heart, who shared your dreams and fears, who knew you in the deepest corners of your soul, was a privilege beyond measure.

I was good at doing hard things. And the hardest things in life gave way to the greatest rewards.