Divine Rivals (Letters of Enchantment, #1)

by Rebecca Ross

“It feels like wearing shoes that are too small,” she whispered. “With every step, you notice it. It feels like blisters on your heels. It feels like a lump of ice in your chest that never melts, and you can only sleep a few hours at a time, because you’re always wondering where they are and those worries seep into your dreams.

And yet I keep moving forward. On some days, I’m afraid, but most days, I simply want to achieve those things I dream of.

But I realize that people are just people, and they carry their own set of fears, dreams, desires, pains, and mistakes. I can’t expect someone else to make me feel complete; I must find it on my own.

But time will slowly heal you, as it is doing for me. There are good days and there are difficult days. Your grief will never fully fade; it will always be with you—a shadow you carry in your soul—but it will become fainter as your life becomes brighter. You will learn to live outside of it again, as impossible as that may sound. Others who share your pain will also help you heal. Because you are not alone. Not in your fear or your grief or your hopes or your dreams. You are not alone.

Because I didn’t want to cry in front of you. Because I don’t want your pity. Because I’m holding myself together by a thread.

“I don’t want to wake up when I’m seventy-four only to realize I haven’t lived.”

Let us make our names exactly what we want them to be.