The Good Lie

by A.R. Torre

Losing a child was like losing a limb. You were reminded of it every time you moved, until the consistent adjustments to life became a permanent part of you.

She was looking for problems instead of counting her blessings.

“It’s like the chocolate. Why do you want the chocolate?” “Because it tastes good.” She played along. “That’s why you think you want the chocolate. That’s everyone’s reaction when they’re asked that question, but when—” “I understand hidden triggers,” she cut me off. “I eat it because my body craves sugar. You eat it because you like the way it tastes. Jacob eats it because putting something in his mouth is a habit, and my mother eats it because her anxiety requires dopamine.”

Great analogy.

William S. Burroughs once said that no one owns life, but anyone who can lift a frying pan can create death. He was right. Killing is the easy part. The act of living—of finding happiness in life—that’s the hard part.

I agree with the living part of the quote. Not so much the killing. But I get it.

Moving past grief and guilt, and learning to love and to trust . . .

Is a very hard thing to do.