The Conditions of Will

by Jessa Hastings

It’s why people have children. To exist beyond their existence.

feeling like you’re mysterious seems to be something humans value, maybe because people don’t like to feel exposed,

It’s a funny part of growing up, actually… Accepting that things that are better for you, healthier—they can still be painful.

But then, I always wonder if everyone notices these things or if it’s just me.

I bellow, “Who the fuck asked you!” He shrugs gently. “I don’t know, Georgia—I think maybe the more important question is, who didn’t ask you?” I feel like someone dropped a piano on me.

All we have is this. The bones of a close relationship and the smoky memory of how we used to be and might not ever be again.

“There’s no such thing as an addictive personality; it’s a psychological myth and a nice way of saying you struggle with neuroticism and that you have poor impulse control.”

What with people like these idiot girls with bright eyes and dull hearts, not a hair out of place but hearts in the wrong one. Girls like them who bat their eyes as they pick and choose from the Bible to create a world they’re comfortable to exist in.

avoiding grief is a kind of grief. It’s what we do when we can’t feel what we need to feel to progress.

Contempt is funny like that. You can be resentful of something, hateful even—and still be jealous of it.

it’s hard to be redeemed from ten thousand miles away. But I crave it anyway.

Damn, this hit me hard.

Wondering and questioning why things are the way they are, not accepting the present and permanent—they’re all really solid ways to slow down progress.

Don’t try to control things that are out of your control.

laughing at things that hurt you, almost no matter how you slice it from a psychological standpoint, is usually positive. It’s often considered a coping mechanism, or in my case, a sign of psychological recovery.

He never seems to react; he only responds.

Don’t be your emotions, feel them.

He gives me a long look, then kisses me again. It’s not rushy or urgent. It’s not a bookend kiss, he’s not signing off, he doesn’t say goodbye—he just kisses me, hands in my hair, soft and melty, and then he slips out of my room. His kisses are commas.

His kisses are commas - CRYING

it would be foolish to think you need to stop learning about the things you love.

“You notice all of it, everyone. You all compute it; you just don’t know how to read the data.”

Sam gives me a stern look, which is a sexy thing to do to someone, and I don’t know why, but it probably has roots in paternal issues.

besides, I don’t think a pilot would forget. They’re like Horse Girls, but men. They don’t fucking shut up about their planes and their flight times

LOL

it’s easier to be angry than it is to be afraid.

People are never unpredictable, even if they think they are.

Our conscious actions might be the ship we’re sailing, but our subconscious is the rudder that steers it.

for a psychology major you have some real fucking shit boundaries

Mood… lol

wouldn’t it be so lovely if we viewed ourselves through the same lens as the people who love us?

“Do I not get a say in this?” “No,” I tell him very directly. “Not how you feel entitled to one, anyway.”

DAMN

I wonder what it might cost a person to spend their whole lives apologizing for loving who they love.