Goodbye Days

watch the tip of my tie sway to and fro and wonder how humans got to a place where we said, “Whoa. Hold on. Before I can take you seriously, you need to hang a brightly colored strip of narrow pointy cloth around your neck.”

when those memories hit me, I feel that ache. So will you. But your life will be full enough, big enough to absorb it, and you’ll go on.

Things happen for many reasons. Things happen for no reason. To shoulder the burden of the universe’s caprice is too much for anyone.

We assume that it’s better to survive things, but the ones who don’t survive don’t have to miss anyone. So sometimes I don’t know which is better

I have a version of a depressed, anxious Sunday-night feeling. Only it’s a thousand times worse than normal. As if every day of my life from here on out is going to be a Monday.

There comes a point when you realize that you can never make someone like you, or even stop hating you, and the only defense you have left is the ultimate one—not giving a shit anymore. But that requires the not giving of a shit, and I’m not there yet. So I’m defenseless.

You have a love heart, separate from your grieving heart, or your guilt heart, or your fear heart.

I want to be happy again before I die. That’s all I want.

Even more than I want her, I want to not want her.

Of course she would have to be brilliant at this too. There’s no respite. She’s actively trying to destroy me inside.