Rebel

Because sometimes, broken pieces find a way to make a new whole.

There are a million pieces of us scattered through my memory, moments tiny and insignificant to everyone else in the world except for me.

We can’t save the world...” “But still we try anyway... One day at a time.

She was the flint lighting sparks in my darkness, illuminating a history that I can just barely see.

You rarely regret the things you do, but always the things you don't.

I've looked over my shoulder for a decade,' I whisper, 'wondering what it was that was missing in my life. Turns out, all this time, it was you.

Daniel reaches out and seizes both of my wrists in his hands. “Look at me,” he says, his eyes locking on to mine. They are fierce in the night, and in them I see the same brother who had once stood up to an entire nation. “It is not weakness to open your heart. It does not make you less of a man to ask for help. To turn to someone when you’re vulnerable. To need a shoulder to cry on. You don’t have to bear the weight of anything by yourself. Do you understand me? I know what it’s like to be forced to go it alone. I never want you to feel that way.

Change never happens unless you force it.

It is not weakness to open your heart. It does not make you less of a man to to ask for help. To turn to someone when you’re vulnerable. To need a shoulder to cry on. You don’t have to bear the weight of anything by yourself.

the small steps you take that are invisible to everyone else in the world. The steps that, nevertheless, matter the most.

Because, sometimes, being patriotic means calling out the problems rotting away your country. I'm not saying we don't want to work with you. But we represent millions of voices you're not hearing right now. If you want to preserve the spirit of what made Antarctica a world leader to begin with, you should take a look at your blind spots.

The world shifts, tilts, sometimes collapses. But sometimes, it bends toward you, and everything feels right.

That I love you,” I whisper. “That I’ve been in love with you for years, even when we were separated. Especially then. I’ve lived with you in my life, and I’ve lived without you. No matter what kind of fear I feel in the possibility of us being together, the fear of being away from you is something I don’t think I can bear.” I look down, shy to meet her gaze now. “I have nightmares of losing you again. All the time.

Even if we don't know where we'll go in the future, perhaps our lives were always meant to collide again and again. Perhaps we are forever meant to be each other's catalysts.

Maybe the United States was only ever united for some. Maybe this place has always been a dystopia.

Some pasts can’t be left behind. They must be fought.

If you have to sell your soul in your quest to make things better,” I say through gritted teeth, “then you’ll never succeed.

I know what it’s like to live in a place where people have no choices. What happens in a world like that, when you’re unable to speak out against something you think is wrong?

...sometimes, broken pieces find a way to make a new whole.

It was my advantage on the streets too. When you aren’t accountable to anything, you can move pretty goddy fast.

June's answer drifts up into the night air and echoes across the cityscape, one of millions of things happening in each of our lives, the small steps you take that are invisible to everyone else in the world. The steps that, nevertheless, matter the most. Yes. Always. Forever.

We may always struggle with our pasts, but we can rest assured that we’ll always have someone else who can pull us forward.

It wasn’t until I saw her in the Republic a month ago, purely by accident, that fragments of her in my memories came rushing back to me. That I remembered June was the one who’d give me that paper clip ring.

There is nothing to figure out, there is no how or why. Sometimes things just happen.

No matter how strong the country, no matter how invincible one might seem... there is always a tipping point. Always something that can pull the entire house down.

You do what you believe is right. Always. And doing what’s right tends to be hard.

After that, I don't know what the hell I'll do. But I'm used to taking crises one step at a time.

But things linger in my head. They don’t go away. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I really am still a kid who doesn’t know how to move on.