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Where survival is concerned, tears have no place. Stay focused, and stay alive.
I try not to listen to my head, if I can help it, though, because it doesn’t always tell me to do the right things.
“Indifference to death isn’t going to help you here. Learn to be indifferent to pain, and you’ll become invincible. Defiant.”
Men like Denny believe the lies and propaganda fed to them on their silver spoons, though.
But there is no monster more terrifying than the human being who lacks compassion.
“Safety is an illusion, remember?” “Yes, you’re right. But survival is reality.”
Falling in love means you have to be brave enough to accept the pain when it comes to stake its claim. Whether it’s the love of a father, or the love of your life, pain is inevitable. And the heart is forever drawn to it.
“Every night I lost myself to hallucinations of your face. Every girl I save is you. Every time I go out there, I hear your voice on the wind. Your laughter. Your scent. It’s all up here,” he says, jabbing a fist to his temple. “Can’t get you out of my head. Tried to carve you out of me, but I can’t, and the blood I spill isn’t enough. It’s never enough.”
The moth who fell in love with the flame. He’s the reaper, and I’m his disciple.
I close my eyes, allowing the gathered tears to fall against the cotton pillow, as the truth surfaces over the chaos inside my head. I’ve fallen in love with a monster. And, perhaps, so has he.
“Turns out, I was wrong. To the rest of the world, you were just a girl. A lonely girl from the other side of that wall. But to me, you’ve always been more than that. The air when I couldn’t breathe. My voice when I couldn’t speak. When I couldn’t feel anything anymore, I felt you. Goddamn, Wren, you were my heart, pumping life into a body that was mostly dead. You were everything to me. You are everything.”
I pray, in time, your generation will heal from our mistakes. Perhaps you’ll come to know the truth that somehow escaped us along the way—there isn’t a vaccine in creation that can cure hatred and indifference to human suffering. They are the most virulent diseases in existence.
After all, this world has no room for love. It’s harsh and violent and thrives from taking, but still we seek it out, because the will to live and love is the only universal thing that binds us as a species and ensures our viability—an ever-constant pulse that drives us, in spite of the pain and hate that seeks to destroy us along the way. When the world is at its darkest, somehow love still carries the light. Love is strength and weakness. A crutch and a sword. It can leave a person hollow and heal their wounds.
