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December 30, 2019 - January 4, 2020
“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved. In secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
I didn’t know why so much darkness sat heavily in my chest. I didn’t know why I was so angry. I just knew that I was.
The worst thing a broken person could do was hook up with another broken person.
As hot as she was, she was one of the ugliest people I’d ever seen.
You know how people have instant friendships? She and I had an instant hateship.
The quiet ones always had the best under-the-breath commentary.
She joked, referring to the fact that other than me, she didn’t have friends, which was too bad. So many people were missing out on the greatness that was Eleanor Gable.
The only person who texted nonstop without ever receiving a reply was my close friend, Tracey.
If he were a Care Bear, he’d definitely be Grumpy Bear.
I didn’t reply to any of the messages, because they weren’t really talking to me. They were talking to the person I pretended to be on the regular.
When people cared about me, I felt a pressure to try to not let them down. Then, I always ended up letting them down.
always thought being surrounded by people would help me tune out my sadness. Truth was, it only made it louder.
When someone saw your pain and didn’t look away, it felt like a gift, like they were allowing you to be exactly who you were without shame or judgments.
Feeling any kind of pain meant I was still alive. That had to count for something.
I just hope broken hearts can receive love, too. I think us broken hearts need love the most.
Sometimes, sitting in silence with someone who is willing to stay with you helps a heart heal more than talking about one’s hurts.
Funny how you could be a different character in different people’s storybooks.
Some love stories didn’t need constant watering.
But you know what you get from a melting-butter heart? Clogged arteries. That was what Landon did to me—he clogged my freaking arteries.
How many chances could you give someone before time was up?
the one who felt so much and hid those feelings from the world because she felt as if they were too much of a burden to impose on others.
I’d hated her because I had scars and she had none, and now I felt like a damn idiot for ever thinking such a thing. It turned out everyone in the world had scars. Everyone had cracks and cuts that bled into their soul each night. Some people were simply better at hiding them.
hearts were stubborn. They beat faster for certain people without the brain’s permission.
“The people who show the least emotions are normally the ones who hurt the most,” he stated.
It’s hard to walk in someone else’s shoes when they don’t fit your feet.
you to end the bet, not because she really cares.” That was the thing about anxiety and depression: there was nothing logical about it. When my brain started to spin the webs of self-doubts, it spun fast, spinning me round and round into its webs of lies. The panic in my chest made it hard to focus on my surroundings.
Not even on purpose, but it happens. That’s the problem with making decisions during stretches of temporary sadness or struggle. You sometimes shoot bullets at people who didn’t deserve to be shot.
