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finding someone you can laugh with when everything hurts—was the stuff happily ever afters were made of.
She’s as beautiful as the day we first met. She’s changing, aging, but to me, only getting better.
You think she looks good now? I’m just getting started.
Grief is a grind. It is the work of breathing and waking and rising and moving through a world that feels emptier. A gaping hole has been torn into your existence, and everyone around you just walks right past it like it’s not even there.
“Fix your face,” Hendrix says from the corner of her mouth. “You look like someone just punched you in the gut.”
“I’ve only ever loved Blackly, so the brothers is all the dick I know, but I would assume given the proper girth, length, and velocity—” “Dear Jesus,” I mutter, pressing a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. “‘Velocity’? What does that even mean?” “You know,” Hendrix says. “The force of thrust.” “That is a blatant misuse of ‘velocity.’” Soledad shakes her head. “But is it, tho?” Hendrix counters, tapping her temple. “It’s speed and direction of motion. Girl, that’s a thrust.”
“Life is not about always being okay. It’s about getting help when we aren’t. About letting our family and friends help us.
“You were taking care of the two things that meant the most to me. My children.” His eyes, lit with sincerity, lock with mine. “And yourself. With all you went through, that was all I had the right to expect. If you hadn’t taken care of Day and Seem, I wouldn’t have been able to hold it down here.”
Apparently absence makes the heart grow horny. Cross-stitch that on a pillow.
“Here’s to a new year. May all your pain be champagne.”
Broken relationships may or may not be. You may never repair those completely, but you’re still here to try. Do you recognize what an amazing gift that is? To still be here to try?”
“So let’s set a date.” “A date? For what?” “We need to put it on the calendar, the day you’re going to forgive yourself and get about the business of living your life.” “Um, pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.” “It can work like that. You can’t change what has already happened. What you did or decided. So you have two choices. Wallow in it, stay in the chokehold of guilt and shame that holds you back from the next phase of your life”—she taps the pad with the pen—“or decide you’ve punished yourself long enough for things you can never change and set a date when you’ll forgive yourself and
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Our traumas, the things that injure us in this life, even over time, are not always behind us. Sometimes they linger in the smell of a newborn baby. They surprise us in the taste of a home-cooked meal. They wait in the room at the end of the hall. They are with us. They are present. And there are some days when memories feel more real than those who remain, than the joys of this world.
“Live long enough,” Dr. Musa says softly, “and you’ll lose people, things. We just need to learn how to deal with it in ways that aren’t isolating or destructive.
