History Is All You Left Me

I'll never understand how time can make a moment feel as close as yesterday and as far as years.

People are complicated puzzles, always trying to piece together a complete picture, but sometimes we get it wrong and sometimes we’re left unfinished. Sometimes that’s for the best. Some pieces can’t be forced into a puzzle, or at least they shouldn’t be, because they won’t make sense.

History is nothing. It can be recycled or thrown away completely. It isn’t this sacred treasure chest I mistook it to be. We were something, but history isn’t enough to keep something alive forever.

There’s nothing wrong with someone saving my life, I’ve realized, especially when I can’t trust myself to get the job done right. People need people. That’s that.

Every universe I’ve created lately, your face keeps popping up in it.

I'm sorry, but please don't be mad at me for reliving all of it. History is all you left me.

I'm blown away by how happy you make me. Thank you for being there for me when I'm stupid enough to think I'd rather be alone.

I was in love and love died and the pain you've left isn't pain I can see myself having the strength to face again.

I feel like a rock being skipped through the ocean—pain, relief, pain again, relief again, eventually destined to sink.

But maybe people should be kind without reason.

Love, the hugest liar in this universe.

One night we argued for a solid hour over who would win in a duel between Lord Voldemort and Darth Vader. I'm surprised we're still friends.

I'm so happy you were my first, Theo, and you were worth all the heartache.

The world should stop lying to kids because they've always been brutally honest with us.

Every universe I’ve created lately, your face keeps popping up in it. And I thought that if you can’t be cool with that, then I wouldn’t hate you, but I might need some time for myself until we’ve had enough distance that I can imagine made-up worlds without you automatically appearing.

History remains with the people who will appreciate it most.

We were something, but history isn’t enough to keep something alive forever.

Alternate universe idea: Theo and I are living together in a huge house overflowing with hats because I bought him a new one every day to get him to stay.

There’s got to be some scientific study somewhere that proves your boyfriend’s sweater will keep you warmer and cure you of any illnesses a lot faster, than some Pottery Barn blanket.

Even if I only got to spend that first drive to the planetarium with Theo, he broke me in a way everyone should be lucky to be cracked open at least once. I had the privilege of being destroyed by him until we found a better, real me inside of the person I was pretending to be.

I’ll never understand how time can make a moment feel as close as yesterday and as far as years.

Kneel before the king, Griff." I look around for the king. "Me, asshole. I'm the king. Who else would be the king? Wade?" [...] "On this rainy Thursday, I, King Theo of New York City, praise you, Sir Griffin of New York City, for your vast knowledge of fantasy novels I"ll never take the time to read myself. And for having the kind of laugh that I like hearing so much I would punch myself over and over if you found it funny.

But in them all, you and I are more than history. I have to believe these universes exist; it’s the only way to manage the suffering here. Alternate versions of me are perfectly happy with alternate versions of you, because you’re alive.

This is the moment of the end. This is where we give up hope on reversing time, where we abandon finding a cure to death, where we live in this Theo-less universe, where we say goodbye. But I can’t. It is goodbye for most, but not for me. Never me.

You're not delusional,” Theo says. “And you're not crazy.