“But for what?” I whisper back, almost too afraid to move, to break this moment apart and realize what I’ve feared all along: that life is dark and bloody and thick with bullshit, and that moments of beauty are too few and far between for it to be worth it. I’ve been rethinking that lately, but I’m scared. I don’t want it to be true. Please, prove me wrong, I beg, but I’m not sure who it is that I’m asking.
