Kick, Push

Seriously, how many times can a person break before the only things left are shattered fragments too small to piece back together?

And there’s nothing sadder, nothing harder in the world than watching the person you love fall apart right before your eyes—and you can’t say or do anything to change it.

There’s a big difference between being happy and being selfish. Choose to be happy. Fire truck the rest.

You said that life's just like skating; I just need to kick forward and take a chance, push off the ground and follow through. And when everything works out, I'll coast.

Tommy’s three years old today, that means you raised him for three years. You. And you did an amazing job because look at him,” she says, pointing to the pictures. “Look how beautiful he is. How happy he is. You did that, Josh. You gave him a life worth smiling about.” She pauses a beat. “We’re not just here to celebrate Tommy’s birthday. We’re all here to celebrate you.

There are some sacrifices greater than love. And some loves greater than any sacrifice. Tommy’s greater than both.

Do you have a safe place, Becca?” I release a shaky breath, but I can’t seem to look away. “Yes,” I whisper. And I hesitate, just for a moment, from telling him the truth. “You.

There are so many things in my future that absolutely terrify me, but loving you for the rest of it isn’t one of them.

You know what’s worse than your landlady calling you out on wearing cologne purely because you want to impress her granddaughter? I’ll tell you what. Being in the confined space of a truck while your son tells said granddaughter about how you paid him five moneys for him to tell you about what she said about you. Yeah. That’s happening.

Some things will always be beautiful, even in the face of death.

And real life—it was a fucking asshole.

When you spend your whole life faking happiness, it becomes a second emotion.

Year—I can’t even find it in myself to look forward to the next day, let alone three hundred and sixty-five of them.

Please, please be patient with me. Because I really don’t want to let go of this. And you—I don’t want to let go of you.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Of us.

I don’t want my past to determine my future—and my future is you, Josh.

You and Tommy…” She places my hand over her heart. “…you own me in here.” And even as I feel her heart beat against my palm, I wonder if she knows that she just made mine stop.

I press my lips to hers, trying, hoping, that it’s enough, that somehow, through a single kiss she’ll be able to feel it: how much she means to me. How much I appreciate her. How much I love that she didn’t just want me. She wanted us. All three of us.

She’s disintegrated my armor with her existence, and now she has all of me. Every single part. I let her see me. I let her love me. And I let myself believe, just for a moment, I understood why.

He punches the steering wheel. And then he breaks. The boy I love breaks. And there’s nothing sadder, nothing harder in the world than watching the person you love fall apart right before your eyes—and you can’t say or do anything

And I decide then and there that he may possibly be my favorite person in the entire world.

You never have to be afraid of me, Becca, I’ll never hurt you. And as long as I’m around, no one else will either.

I’ll always love you,” I tell her. “You’ll always belong to me, Becca.

I never thought I’d find someone like you. Someone who’d put up with me having a son and wanting to be part of both our lives. Why do you do it, Becca?” I ask, my heart pounding against my chest. “Because, Josh. You and Tommy…” She places my hand over her heart. “…you own me in here.” And even as I feel her heart beat against my palm, I wonder if she knows that she just made mine stop.

Our raw imperfections make us real and make us human but they don't make us.

It's a hard emotion to explain— what it feels like to fake every single moment of your life. To breathe but to not exist. To smile but to not be happy. To nod and agree but to not really care.

So here we are, lying side by side, hand in hand, listening to music on the middle of a basketball court with nothing but darkness surrounding us and I swear it, my world has never looked so bright. “Becca?