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Real men suck it up and change the subject until their hearts wither to dust inside them.
I have no idea what to say to her, but would do anything to be near her again?
“That I love you,” I whisper. “That I’ve been in love with you for years, even when we were separated. Especially then. I’ve lived with you in my life, and I’ve lived without you. No matter what kind of fear I feel in the possibility of us being together, the fear of being away from you is something I don’t think I can bear.” I look down, shy to meet her gaze now. “I have nightmares of losing you again. All the time.”
“I’ve looked over my shoulder for a decade,” I whisper, “wondering what it was that was missing in my life. Turns out, all this time, it was you.”
Maybe the United States was only ever united for some. Maybe this place has always been a dystopia.
Some pasts can’t be left behind. They must be fought.
“It is not weakness to open your heart. It does not make you less of a man to ask for help. To turn to someone when you’re vulnerable. To need a shoulder to cry on. You don’t have to bear the weight of anything by yourself.
“Eden, you’ve lived your whole life with your shoes pointed in the direction of the Republic.
The comfort of not remembering is an artificial thing.
“My home is where you are,”
It’s a special kind of hell, speaking frankly in a system that doesn’t reward honesty at all.
“Isn’t that how all change happens? Someone just has to do it first?”
Because, sometimes, being patriotic means calling out the problems rotting away your country.
we represent millions of voices you’re not hearing right now. If you want to preserve the spirit of what made Antarctica a world leader to begin with, you should take a look at your blind spots.”
The world shifts, tilts, sometimes collapses. But sometimes, it bends toward you, and everything feels right.
