If There's a Way (Lost Boys #2)

by Jessie Walker

And sleep? Well, I’ve got drugs for that now. Drugs for all the things functioning humans are expected to just do. Like going outside and showering and brushing my teeth.

Depression Is such a bitch

We settled for what was in front of us, rather than brave trying to find someone new. Someone who lit our souls on fire, rather than just keeping them warm.

“We’d all be better off without you, right?” I say into a slow nod, watching as he tenses, eyes growing wide. “We’d all be so much fucking happier if you weren’t in our lives. So much less burdened,” I grit out through my teeth. We’re nose to nose, my heaving breaths coasting along his tightly pressed lips. “Well too fucking bad,” I murmur. “You are loved. And I’m not better off without you.”

it’s one thing to create art. But it’s another to make people feel your art. To convey it in such a way that it burrows into the little nooks and crannies of another human’s soul, and unearths the pieces left forgotten. Pieces they might not have had the strength to face before, not until a book, a painting, or a song gave them permission to do so.