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“If we don’t have hope, Zander, we don’t have anything. It’s the best place to start.”
Trying hard but failing. Because, in the end, we all fail. We all sink to the bottom, no matter how many times someone tries to pull us back to the surface.
The odds of finding love are one in 285,000, but the probability of getting married is 80 percent. There seems to be a discrepancy here.
The end is the end no matter when it happens. Waiting only makes it hurt more.
And when you hold on to things too tightly, they just rot in your grip.
“Physical constraints pale in comparison to mental ones. Now, repeat after me. We pray to Saint Anthony of Padua that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting.”
“So there’s no way out of anything?” I ask. “Sure there is,” Cassie says. “Death is the way out.”
“Life support only keeps you alive,” I say softly over my shoulder. “It doesn’t help you live.”
“You may not want to be mad, Zander, but maybe you need to be.”
“It’s not about doing what people want you to do. It’s about giving people what they need.”
Sometimes silence is needed the most when life is so full of noise. And Cassie’s life must be full of a lot of noise.
“How many nicknames do you think Cassie has?” “Not many,” I say. “Why do you think that is?” he asks. I look into his wide eyes. There are secrets in him. I can practically see them. “Because no one cares enough to give her one. She needed me to care.”
Sometimes people are lost because they’re too afraid to look at the path. Sometimes people avoid the road for fear of what might be on it. It’s easier to stand in the shadows and watch.
I will die. And it hurts. Breathing is life. And it hurts. All life ends. And it hurts. I need to live. Even if it hurts.
“To exist means knowing that one day you won’t, right?”
“Everything will never be all right. But maybe that’s the point.”
sometimes hope is the only alternative because the reality is too much.
Because reality might be ugly, but sometimes we can be broken and beautiful.
“But it’s not that easy to just keep coming up to the surface for air. It’s tiring. And the farther I get to the bottom the harder it is to get back up. And then what if I can’t. What if I just can’t get to the surface anymore?”
Life is strange. I don’t know why things happen the way they do. But I do know that living is just that. It’s a verb. An action.
