Travis

by Mia Sheridan

Weren’t all of us a compilation of the versions of ourselves we’d once been? Maybe if we were lucky—and insightful—we learned how to extract the good and leave the bad behind, the parts that hadn’t worked for us and instead brought nothing but pain.

“All the things that have brought us pain carve a distinct hole in our heart, and there’s someone else out there with the perfect something that will fill the void. And in turn, we get to do the same for them. And suddenly, it all makes sense. It all fits. Because we haven’t been forsaken. We’ve been prepared.”

Because of her, I wanted to be the best version of myself. And that, I think, is what love does, if it’s really love.