Extraits

Thayer Holmes.

My asshole neighbor.

My boss.

My lover.

My child’s father.

My someone.

Loving Thayer isn’t a choice. It just is. Loving him is natural, automatic, just like my body’s need to breathe air.

“Wow, you really went all out. I feel special.”

“You are.”

Sometimes relationships aren’t built to last and there is no bad guy. It’s just two people who weren’t meant to be.

It took me a while to learn that sometimes no matter how much, or how hard you love someone, or something, you have to let them go. You can’t save a sinking ship.

Sometimes, you have someone else you have to be strong for, who needs you more.

You make a choice.

A devastating one.

And you hope, maybe one day, they’ll come back to you

"If she had the confidence of wildflowers, then I was the resurrection of wildflowers. My soul withered... I was lost and that version of myself was gone forever. But I came back -I came back and now, I'll grow and thrive alongside her."

Sometimes, when you’re in the midst of tragedy—of heartbreak—it can be impossible to see the other side. It’s like you’re drowning beneath the weight of your emotions, memories, your very thoughts, but if you just keep going, keep swimming, then eventually you make it to shore.

Our loved ones never really leave us—not as long as we remember.

Even when it hurts, even when the pain is unbearable, we have to remember.

Grief is strange that way—how it tries to defy logic.

I saw her die. I went to the funeral. The grave.

I did all those things, and yet my mind is still holding onto the illogical hope that she’s in that house.

“Death doesn’t have to be seen as this scary thing. It’s a beautiful reminder that each of our breaths, each heartbeat,” I point to her chest, and she places her hand over her thrumming heart, “is a gift to cherish.”