The Beginning of After

It seemed like the only way to keep breathing was to focus on the here and now, moment by moment, keeping my mind frozen cold to anything else.

i've found that letting something stay broken for a little while helps me understand it.

That's the whole thing about grieving... It's part of the deal: You get to be alive and to love, but in exchange you also have to put in some serious hurt time.

Holding the knife with the blade against my palm, it became so clear how my life would only contain shadows now. Shadows of things gone; not just the people themselves but everything connected to them. Was this my future? Every moment, every tiny thing I saw and did and touched, weighted by loss. Every space in this house and my town and the world in general, empty in a way that could never be filled.

It was like how people find other people to be in love with, all random and accidental and lucky.

Sometimes my life here felt like a cage where I could never escape the pain. At other times it felt like the only firm ground on earth

Then I closed my eyes. That was it. That was Before. Now here we go into After.

It was true. I wasn't good with liking someone. my instinct was total self-preservation: show no sign of weakness. This was my pathetic way of being shy.

Keep in touch. I suddenly realized how annoying that expression was. Like, Now it's your job to stay in contact with me. It said, I'm really just too lazy. I started to write back, to keep in touch, but decided I'd be lazy as well.

I quickly imagined that I could reach my hand into my chest, yank out that awful feeling, place it on an invisibl ecloud of air right in front of me, then push it away. Push it away

It was easier to be the victim, but it didn’t feel so great.

But if I can't change something, I don't waste energy on it.

Now I lay facedown on the bed, sobbing for the woman who once slept here not knowing that someday one of her worst fears would come true

Laurel, I hope you find something like this, a little self-destructive habit you can turn to every once in a while, when you’re tired of being good. It will keep you sane.

Kiss me, Joe. I won’t shatter… Seriously, Joe, you can touch me without breaking me. In fact, you might even put me a little bit back together.

I sat parked for a while in the parent pickup lot, watching a bunch of little kids run relays up and down the field. To be nine years old. To have life simply about family and friends and who was mad at who and which games you wanted to play at recess, and getting gold stars on spelling tests, an feeling that first crush. Laurel, you had everything back then, and you didn't even know it.

If you're going to do it, do it.

I'm taking it day by day." I liked saying this. It was honest, short, and seemed to satisfy people.

I'm a little mad. He shouldn't have said whatever he said to make you so upset. But we should try not to judge people based on one instance.

I don’t know, Laurel,” said David, and I loved how he said my name, like he enjoyed it.

His hair was longer now, brushing the tops of his shoulders, and the weight of it made it hang straight and shiny. He’d lost more weight and gotten kind of tan. He looked about five years older. And then there was me, dressed as sushi.

The only thing I knew for sure at that moment was that David would be back.If I was gone when that happened, would he leave again? For good? David, do you know that’s a chance I can’t take?

But even if that were true, I was working hard. I didn’t know how not to.

Anyone whos had something truly crappy happen to them will tell you: Its all about Before and After.

Anyone who’s had something truly crappy happen to them will tell you: It’s all about Before and After. What I’m talking about here is the ka-pow, shake-you-to-your-core-and-turn-your-bones-to-plastic kind of crappy.