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Because they have each been told, over and over, that the only way out of a hardship is through. But nobody ever told them that they had to stay awake.
And she knew there was power in small acts of compassion.
Anesthesia for life’s fathomless heartbreaks.
The world was bigger than her school and her town and her state and her country and her continent, and wasn’t that incredible?
Like, maybe it’s important to feel the pain. All of it. Maybe that’s how we honor the people we’ve lost.
Why does there have to be a reason? Why do I need to search for a purpose in something so horrible?
Why can’t we just acknowledge that terrible things happen to decent people, and that sometimes the world is just cruel and random?
You know that the world doesn’t always work well, that it often feels downright broken, but when the fiery sun melts into the calm waves of water and the clouds turn to peach and berry sorbet, you can’t help but feel that this one thing went right.
