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I’m not fine, Way. I’m not fucking fine, and neither are you, and this, right now, saying goodbye to you, knowing just how not fine you are, but not being able to see you, kiss you, touch you, and breathe you in… It’s straight up agony.
“Why do you think we chose to be each other’s sponsors?” Shawn says dryly, gesturing between him and Mason with his cigarette. “Because sometimes, the only thing that keeps us holding on, is holding on for someone else.”
“It’s better to need someone than to have no one to need,” Shawn says, his fierce gaze holding mine. “Trust me.”
“I might love you harder when you’re at your worst, but that’s only because you need it harder then. But my love for you when you’re at your best?” I release a breath, smiling. “It’s unmatched. It consumes me.”
“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that I love you even more when I’m happy.”
“That for as much as I need you when shit’s all dark and fucked up in my head, I love you just as much, if not more so, when I’m clear-headed. When I feel strong and capable, and not strangled by the fear that I’m going to lose you, or by the voices that try to convince me you deserve better.” “Way…” He inhales deeply, bringing us impossibly closer. “My love for you when I’m sad and scared is very selfish. Even a little ugly. But when I’m happy, it’s pure. Easy and simple as breathing.”
