to drink coffee with a ghost

by Amanda Lovelace

i walk the thin line between nostalgia & trauma, never fully knowing the difference.

what do we do with all the things we need to say to someone we’ll never see again? - maybe that’s why i write.

i used to tell people you were the lorelai to my rory. the ultimate package: not just mother & daughter, but the best of friends. as i grow older, i wonder how many times rory went to bed feeling empty, wishing for a mother, & just that—a mother. for that someone who would tell her what she needed to do when life was just too much to handle without ever expecting anything from her in return. - chasing emily.

your comfort is not more important than my journey to healing.

because you’re never truly alone with a book.

for the first time, i will allow myself to believe that the best can & will happen to me, instead of the worst. - life doesn’t have to be a horror show.

i would drink all the bad coffee with you. - how i say “i love you”

sharing the same family tree doesn’t often make people stay. find family in the ones who make you laugh uncontrollably. find family in the ones who take your side but also talk you through your wrongdoings. find family in the ones who would hop on a plane & fly across countries the moment you needed them. find family in the ones who rejoice in you, especially when you’re unsure of yourself. find the ones who will face the fire with you. - they’re your real family.

sometimes— sometimes, it’s the loss of someone that makes you complete. - life is funny like that.

when life gives us new beginnings, we need to take them, because there are never enough of them.