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nodded. She understood what he meant. She knew how it felt to wish you hadn’t gone through hell. To wish you could have stayed the person you were before life broke you into pieces, and then shoved you roughly back together, making you something completely different. Something jagged and frayed. Something hard to handle, hard to love. It made you hopeless.
“Be healthy,” he whispered. “And when you’re old enough, look out for your mama. She doesn’t like the dark. So you be the light. Make her smile sometimes. Or lots of times. For me, okay? And… don’t let anyone ever take your skin. Don’t let them make you hard. Yeah… okay.”
