Even when you are drowning in disappointment in yourself—even when you have not lived the life you deem exciting or adequately adventurous, you have still lived something. It is impossible to have learned nothing. It is impossible to be nothing.
When other people demand to know what’s wrong with you, you mumble replies that are half-truths even if you don’t want to answer. Because, somehow, you think you owe them an explanation. You feel like you have to justify yourself.
It’s not fair to you. You’re only the right person when you’re not around.
No matter how you see it, it’s telling you there’s something more. It might have changed or even become completely different, but the dream has been there all along.
Don’t ignore her phone calls. Don’t let the call ring through to voicemail because you’re getting ready for a night out with new friends. Answer it quickly and tell her you’re going out. And when you’re back, call her.
Thank you for striking the match. Thank you for encouraging me with nothing but the words on your tongue.
It’s a hard thing to accept, that something you were once so connected to, something that moved you so completely, has changed for you. And you know it hasn’t changed, not really. It’s the same old book.
Your life does not deserve to be frozen and displayed like a stuffed animal that was once breathing and is now caught still by taxidermy. It deserves your attention. It deserves your presence.
Sure, it’s easier to feel like a writer on the days it all comes together, but the days when I struggle, the days when I fight for it, those are the days that have conditioned me.
When I received that phone call, I was struck by how unfair it was. Not that you had died, because you were peaceful in your passing and it was time. I was struck instead by how unprepared I was