A Pessimist's Guide to Love (Heartsong, #2)

by Jennifer Hartmann

She goes lax in my arms, and the sound of her beating heart lulls me to sleep like the sweetest song.

“I said the things in the past that mattered still

matter. We carry the good with us and let go of all the rest. We release the parts that keep us hurting and stunted.”

What I’m starting to realize is that things meant to happen are just going to happen. There’s no preparing, no preventing. They just happen. And the risks we take, the memories we make, are the only things that count. That’s all that matters. Everything else is going to happen anyway.

“Point is, we all have regrets, and sometimes we crucify ourselves enough, and that’s all the punishment we need. All we can do is learn from them and try to be better.

She’s caught in the sun, while I’m slipping into the shadows.

He’s afraid to love because he’s afraid to lose. Once you lose something precious, it changes you. Sometimes you hold onto things too tightly and they crumble in your hands, and sometimes you don’t hold onto them at all. At the end of the day, you’re still losing.

Everyone has demons. Monsters lurking around every corner, whispering in your ear, hiding under your bed, living just beneath your skin. The key is turning your demons into friends. Companions. Don’t let them scare you. Don’t let them chase you. Let them run with you. Only then, you will win.

Her love language is every love language because love is just a way of life for her.

Sometimes all we can do is grab ahold of what we can and spin it into something worth treasuring.

There’s no reason for suffering, but there’s always a reason to keep going.

“The only thing stronger than fear is our tenacity to overcome it.”

“Your struggles don’t scare me. Your flaws don’t make me want to run the other way. They only make me want to fight with you.”

And I know, without a doubt, I’d let him kiss me forever. I just hope forever is long enough.

Moments fade, but they never die. We can always recreate them, bring them back to life, and make them even sweeter.

I want to ask him what it was like…if it felt the same for him as it did for me. Is rock bottom a place, a feeling, a purgatory? Do the rocks and shrapnel cut just as deep?

How much suffering are we willing to commit to, for the sake of one good day? One perfect kiss? A single moment of bliss?

I suppose, though, when someone hurts another person, they lose all say in the recovery process. They give up their share of control. And that’s fair.

I haven’t moved on, but I’ve moved forward. And I think that’s all we can ever do. We store the past away, seal it up tight and carry it with us, but we don’t live in it anymore. We learn from it. That’s how we keep going,”

Within the tangled roots of grief, we stand to lose so much. But no one ever acknowledges what we stand to gain. Strength. Perspective. Appreciation. Resilience. Those things are often buried, overpowered by grief’s mighty right hand—suffering. They exist, though. There’s beauty in the breakdown, a glimmer of light hidden in the smoke. And sometimes, every once in a while, if you’re truly lucky… There is love.

“Not every fall hurts,” he says. “Not every fall ends in a fiery crash. Sometimes we never hit the ground at all.” Cal rubs his lips together, his eyes glazing over as he exhales the final words, “We learn to fly.”