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This book is dedicated to all the kids whose arms are filled with too much for them to hold, but who are trying their best not to drop a single thing. I see you and I am proud of you for trying.
The world was so big and they were very small and there was no one around to stop terrible things from happening.
“It’s not weak. My mom once told me that being alone makes you feel weaker every day, even if you’re not,” he said quietly. “But it’s not as bad if you’re with other people who are alone, too. We can hold each other up like a card tower.”
“Sometimes … you have to stop trying and just let someone else try their best. In order to survive.”
Why can’t any of you get it into your fucking heads: He is my only constant. My fixed point.”
Then, with a resolute and terrible sorrow, Jack cradled August’s cheek in his nervously shaking hands and kissed him.
Many young people, perhaps like you, find themselves being forced to carry something they never imagined would be so heavy, with no one around to support them. It must be said that they are rarely ever at fault for the multitude of ways they choose to bear that load. Even if they are destructive. They are not “failing”; someone has failed them.
If you are dealing with mental illness and you are exhausted, please know that it is not your fault.
You deserve to heal and grow, too.
