Little Secrets

by Jennifer Hillier

Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? —MARY OLIVER

And that’s what life is these days, isn’t it? A series of slips and catches, mistakes and remorse, a constant juggling act of pretending to feel okay when all she wants to do is fall apart. One day, all those balls will drop, and they won’t just break. They’ll shatter.

Hope lasts only so long, can carry you only so far. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes it’s all you have. It keeps you going when there’s nothing else to hold on to. But hope can also be terrible. It keeps you wanting, waiting, wishing for something that might never happen. It’s like a glass wall between where you are and where you want to be. You can see the life you want, but you can’t have it. You’re a fish in a bowl.

sometimes someone else’s pain is the only thing that makes yours better.

For the past four hundred eighty-six days, sadness has knocked her sideways, debilitated her, confused her, made her weak, talked her into settling for things she doesn’t want, and never did. Rage, on the other hand, will get shit done.

A true friend is someone who stress-eats with you even though the stressful thing isn’t happening to them.

“No, he’s not. He’s nice, and there’s a difference. You can be nice to someone and still cheat. You can be nice and do shitty things. You can still be nice and ruin someone’s life. He’s nice, Mar, but he’s not good. I hope one day you’ll understand the difference.”