Tell Me What You Did

See, that’s the thing about trauma. You never get to quit it. You never get to walk away from it and rediscover the innocence and joy you felt just before The Thing happened.

We never really know how others view us, but the one certain thing is that it's rarely how we expect.

I’ve been lonely for a long time. The key is to reframe loneliness as solitude. Solitude is introspective and comforting, if you set your mind right.

Happiness is a choice,” Alice says. “You decide what makes you happy and pursue it, rather than waiting for it to announce itself.

Happiness is a choice. You decide what makes you happy and pursue it, rather than waiting for it to announce itself.

Because, fuck it, I need to live my life. Whether that life lasts fifty more years or fifteen minutes, I can’t spend it in perpetual fear.

It’s just always there, an unwashable stain that you eventually grow to live with because you have no other choice. I’ll never have a day where I wake up and the events of my past simply never occurred. I’ll never wake and be thankful all the horrors were just a bad dream. The things that happened will always have happened, and that’s just that.

Tell me what you did.

mom would have called a ripper—a book so thrilling, you’re nearly ripping the pages off as you turn them.

I’m a master-level pacer, and I’m going to pace the shit out of this room.

I live a life purposely isolated, just to minimize the chances of being caught in a vulnerable moment.

Solitude is introspective and comforting

I don’t know what it is,” he says. “I suppose only you would know that. But there’s this space between us

They’ve figured out the earth weighs six septillion kilograms,” Dad says. “And by the looks of it

I’m glad he’s physically better. The emotional part…I think we both know you never heal from that. You just think about things differently for the rest of your life.

The emotional part…I think we both know you never heal from that. You just think about things differently for the rest of your life.

You worry you’re not good enough, that you don’t deserve to have something, and because you don’t believe in yourself, you end up losing the very thing you’re convinced you never deserved to have. You know?

But the deep grooves of the past don’t have to chart the course of the future.

always managing to find peace in the fields of death.

I suppose that sums up childhood better than anything else: a time when things feel important.

One person’s existential crisis is another person’s headline, a moment to consider before swiping to the next one, not even bothering to read the body of the story.

I finally sought proper therapy, and it’s helped. I had the same regard for happiness as you, and now I’m able to discover joy in the smallest of things. In fact, the small things tend to be the most beautiful.

We all chase the unknown, throw ourselves headfirst into situations that may end up doing us harm, all because we are subjugated to our basest of impulses.

The bags under your eyes are so big, they wouldn’t fit in the overhead compartment.” Dad joke.

If that character doesn’t IMMEDIATELY go to the police, she will be labeled TSTL by the book club community. TSTL. Too stupid to live.

Your efforts may not be enough, but as long as you try, you will never be defeated, at least not spiritually. And really, that’s all that matters.

But I say nothing because sometimes silence is the only thing that feels good.