"Oh but darling don’t you understand?
It’s all going to be okay. You’ve survived so much more than what you’re currently battling.
Sometimes that’s hard to remember because part of the victory is being able to forget.
Darling…darling… please understand, it’s all going to be okay. You’ve walked across hell’s scorching ground, barefoot and unwavering. You’ve had years without sleep. You’ve starved yourself and then learned to live again. You’ve slept through the party and the worlds end. You’ve seen your own mother break into a thousand different pieces, none of those pieces had a voice you could recognize when you called home.
No, it’s all going to be okay. Just ask the trees, the soil or the birds. They are the experts. They are rooted in chaos and yet the roots of an inexplicable life cycle…they’ll tell you the same thing
on a clear spring day the trees whisper through the breeze
“It’s all going to be okay”
and on an autumn afternoon the leaves crunch through your footsteps and snap
“Honey, it is all going to be okay”
and every single morning, unimpeded, the birds wake up early just to sing to you
“It’s all going to be okay”"
"So I’ve been convinced that I am single. That I haven’t yet fallen in love. They don’t write too many romantic comedies and novels about the love I’ve experienced, though there’s a few I’m sure…I’ve seen an overwhelming amount love making scenes in bedrooms. In my bedroom love was had, but it was sitting on my futon playing scrabble, during a power outage, Christmas Eve with my sister eating dark chocolate. We laughed. A lot.
When my sister is in pain, she asks me to just leave her alone and I do. I know it will help her. When I’m breaking I ask her to just leave me alone and she doesn’t. She knows it won’t help me. She hugs me, even though she hates being touched.
My best friend made me laugh, almost everyday and I made him laugh too. That saved me, everyday, that saved me. My god, Where are my manners? I can’t believe I never thanked you.
When my mother told me I was beautiful I didn’t think it mattered, as if the only opinions that were important were the ones of those who would be inside me, but I was inside of my mother for nine months. Now I know those two things seem uncomfortable to relate, but they’re related. We’re all related, all love is apart of the universe. My mother is a part of the universe. She is Jupiter’s dust and Saturn’s eighth ring. When Jupiter looked me in eyes and told me I was gorgeous, I didn’t listen.
Love hasn’t been romanticized, it’s been sexualized. I do not consider myself single. I am love, I am madly in love and so far from alone."
"Words are funny like that, they’re a stealth killer. A knife, a bullet, a fire. They all invoke pain on impact. But words…words, they enter your body, your mind, your being and three years later you’ll find yourself curled up on the bathroom floor bleeding out and enveloped in flame. They’ve been there the whole time, breaking down the parts of you that were strong enough to fight them off. Can anyone stay strong forever? with words as persistent as they are. I’ve learned another persons mind can be the deadliest weapon."