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“What makes you happy?”
“I believe in the universe, and in things happening for a reason.” I paused. “And, yes, I guess I do believe in a higher spirit.”
clear. “I think religion, in any form, is just the result of fear. Fear of dying, fear of being alone. We all want to believe that we’re special, that some man in the sky loves each and every one of us, even with our flaws.” He shrugged. “But the truth is we’re just humans. We’re just animals. And when we die, we become food for the earth and the bugs. The circle of life.”
“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he asked, speaking over the sound of the wind whipping through the car. “How beautiful everything is when it’s dying.”
“You kids remind me of my younger days. This is the stuff life is made of. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it, and wake up seventy-two and grumpy.”
“We think we know the world, but we’re only seeing a tiny second of its journey.”
“Was that… is kissing always like that?” Emery swallowed, the muscle over his jaw flexing as he shook his head slightly. “Never.”
He swallowed, catching my eyes for just a second before he caved, a guilty man accepting his punishment as his mouth fused with mine.
“You saying I’m your Page of Cups, Little Penny?”
“That’s my girl,”
It isn’t death that’s scary. It’s living without actually living at all, breathing without purpose, existing without essence.