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Maybe I was her wind—something that blew in and out as it pleased and made messes. But every once in a while, maybe I pushed something in the right direction. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I guess if time didn’t exist here, I wouldn’t realize how much of it had passed in which I didn’t feel like myself.
It was much easier to do the leaving than it was to watch someone go, even if you knew they were coming back soon.
There was something special about making old things shine again instead of just getting something new.
Dex told me
that darkness doesn’t always have to be heavy and that if it was, the trees were built to carry it.
“It’s crazy how alive you feel after coming in contact with the dead.”
“When the basis of your entire relationship is convenience, it’s hard to care enough about someone to grow with them instead of apart from them.
It felt more like I was existing behind a dirty window. I could see my life, but I couldn’t feel it—couldn’t get close enough to it to change it.
I didn’t know if I was built for it—the type of stability and security he gave me—but Brady’s steadiness was different. It was like the trees that bent with the wind only so they wouldn’t break. He kept us firmly planted—our roots deep in the earth—but our branches still had room to sway and move and stretch into the clouds.
