Being kind to yourself is never, ever selfish.
Love them. Love them so much you want them to hold on until they are nothing but skin and bone. Love them so much that their skeletal form is better than them achieving peace at last. Forbid them from leaving you.
Last July, I joined a super secret club with an exclusive guest list. You couldn’t be in the club, unless you met a specific criterion. I joined the “Dead Dads Club.”
We used to talk for 24 hours a day; now we could not even stand to talk each other for thirty minutes.
It’s the worst part of anyone’s day…or rather, their night. It’s that terrible time when you’re tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep and unable to turn off your mind.
Instead I still enjoyed the rain, I just enjoyed it in my own way, by myself. It was peaceful and different, a good kind of different that I needed.
Stay away from anything that starts with “Why do you,” “Why are you,” “You shouldn’t,” and “I think.” I don’t want your advice, I want your support.
Everything and every person is always just out of reach for me. Happiness is standing on the other side of the street from me, I can see it clearly. Then a bus passes and it disappears. It’s like a sick twisted game of tag, except I’m always the one chasing rather than running.
None of that really helps when you’re nesting, your entire days worth of food dishes building up around you. You’re cocooned in a blanket and can’t break your month-long Netflix marathon to do anything productive for longer than three minutes at a time. What’s the point?
The truth about our greatest and most genuine goodbyes is that they are truly more like hellos.