❝ Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence. ❞—
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
- John 16:33
" Your heart is going to break a million times. It’s going to feel like the world is falling apart around you. Your lungs will stop working some nights. You find yourself grabbing at your bones trying to hold yourself together. You’re going to feel like you’re dying. It’s going to be okay. You’ll find someone else to kiss you goodnight."
"Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end
Always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I’ll admit that I was glad that it was over
But you didn’t have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened
And that we were nothing
And I don’t even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger
And that feels so rough
No you didn’t have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records
And then change your number
Guess that I don’t need that though
Now you’re just somebody that I used to know Now you’re just somebody that I used to know..”
“Enough is when I have fever and you have warm toaster hands, and your skin smells like scrambled eggs and milk.
Enough is when you leave a note under my favorite book and it says “I read this one last night while you were asleep. You looked peaceful when you whispered my name.”
Enough is when you tell me I’m taking too long in the shower and once I’m out you’re holding a hair dryer. You smile with no wrinkles around your eyes and there are no heartaches, not when I’m bedridden, my veins looking like algae linings, my eyes deep in my sockets.
Enough is when you just tell me I look pale like the sky before dawn, like whitewash walls of your childhood bedroom, and you still call me darling, honey, baby, beautiful. My name.
You whisper my name when you’re sleeping like I do, even when locks of my hair are treating my hands like graveyards, as though my head is growing corn husks and its harvest season.
Enough is when you preheat everything I like: the chicken soup we shared last night, the pair of toast we had in the morning, the warm laundry sheets we cuddled with yesterday afternoon.
I just wanted you again and again. I’m sorry.
I’m sorry you had to see me burying my head inside a vomit bowl, a toilet seat. I’m sorry I couldn’t let go of your hand every god damn chemo session. I just wanted you there. Fuck that. I needed you. Fuck that. I love you.
And every time I try to let go of your fingers one by one, you held unto mine like a chain made of lightning, like we had love that will last beyond sunset horizons.
Enough is when you stay. When you tell me I have fever, no longer touching me as many times before with your warm toaster hands because you’re afraid that it’ll be the last time you’ll be able to. But you’ll eventually do. Enough becomes that moment.
Enough becomes every piece of a moment.
Enough is us. More than any breath and anything, enough is you.”