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But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more. HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN, “THE LITTLE MERMAID”
That’s the thing about grief, I guess. It steals the air from your lungs just as you’ve finally figured out how to breathe.
“In a different life…” I pause, emotion suddenly clogging my throat. “I’d love you out loud.”
my palm resting on the necklace I bought her. It fills me with so much joy when I see her wearing it. Especially when it’s the only thing she’s wearing.
I wonder if she realizes she holds all the power here, that I would crawl on my knees to be wherever she is.
So I’m going to find her, and then I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving her out loud, just like she deserves.
“I’m pissed at you. I’m so fucking angry I can feel it with every breath. But…I don’t think I could ever hate you. Not when I love you so goddamn much.”
“I’m doing this for us,” he tells me. “So we can finish this and I can love you out loud. In this life.”
“You’re supposed to hate everything I hate.” She pouts. “I thought that was a perk of being in a relationship.”
You have changed me. Irrevocably. I don’t want you in a different life. I need you in this one and all the ones we’ll have after.”
Do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband, and I’ll love you so goddamn loudly, everyone will hear.”
“When are you going to realize I see you? Always?”
“Happy birthday, piccola sirena. Now…go make a memory.”
