Magnolia Parks (Magnolia Parks Universe, #1)

by Jessa Hastings

because loving something how you love him is a painful love that puts rocks in your pockets and melancholy in your eyeballs

I miss you, I blink in Morse code. I still love you, say the turned-down edges of his perfect mouth.

The physical distance between us is meagre, but somehow still a forest grows between. Pine trees of mistakes so tall we can’t see over them and rivers of things we didn’t say so wide we can’t get around.

“I’m whatever the fuck she needs me to be.”

I down and out love her in all spectrums of light, even the absence of it.

“How’s the weather over there, Parks?” She looks over at me, and I see her mouth twitch with a smile. “Warm enough,” and she wriggles closer to me. “How’s the weather over there, Beej?” I turn on my side to face her. “Clear skies.”

Painful things can still be beautiful things, in case you didn’t know.

I remember thinking that how the sky had looked that morning was a lie, like it had lulled me into a false sense of safety.