Mad Honey

by Jodi Picoult

“I’m not a hero,” I told my mother. “I’m just somebody who finally figured out how to stop being sad.”

he’s smiling, and I think, Fuck, I can’t believe he is mine.

I think there is a reason they call it falling in love. It’s the moment, at the top of the roller coaster, when your heart hangs in your throat. It’s the time between when you jump from the cliff and when you hit the ocean. It’s the realization that there’s no ground beneath your feet when you miss a step on the ladder, when the branch of the tree breaks, when you roll over and run out of mattress.

People always talk about how their love for you is unconditional. Then you reveal your most private self to them, and you find out how many conditions there are in unconditional love.

but I’m still going to tell you the truth. You’re brave, and you’re strong, and if you don’t believe it today, maybe you’ll believe it tomorrow.”

We aren’t here on earth in order to bend over backward to resemble everybody else. We’re here to be ourselves, in all our gnarly brilliance.

If I thought he was handsome before, he was devastating now.

“Don’t worry about me, Mom,” I tell her. “I’m a survivor.”