The Bodyguard

by Katherine Center

“Dumped” is also a word that falls short of its true meaning. It sounds so quick—like a moment in time. But getting dumped lasts forever. Because a person who loved you decided not to love you anymore.

But how does anybody just ever assume they’d be somebody else’s first choice? Was I better than all the other great people in the world? Was I special enough to be the one somebody picked over everybody else?

It didn’t surprise me that Robby tried to make himself out to be the victim. But it did surprise me that Taylor would believe him. She must have really needed to see me as the problem.

Usually, when you see people for the last time, you don’t know it’s the last time. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

“I think just because you can’t keep something doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. Nothing lasts forever. What matters is what we take with us. I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to escape. I’ve spent too much time on the run from hard things. But now I wonder if escape is overrated. I think, now, I’m going to try thinking about what I can carry forward. What I can hold onto. Not just only always what I have to leave behind.”

“I just hate myself so much for not being loved.”

Maybe love isn’t a judgment you render—but a chance you take. Maybe it’s something you choose to do—over and over.

Love is something you do. Love is something you generate. And loving other people really does turn out, in the end, to be a genuine way of loving yourself.

To this day, Connie swears that death—the threat of it, the promise of it, the looming guarantee of it, even if you’re well—has its upsides. It helps you remember to be alive, if nothing else. It helps you stop wasting time.