heartrender

it won’t be like what you imagined. maybe you get the road trip to the beach with coffee in your hand and the radio playing, maybe you don’t. but happy shows up. it’s in a 2 AM game of jenga with your new college friends. it’s curling up for another marathon of netflix. it’s meeting the person who will be your best man at the wedding. it’s 4:45pm in the library when the girl in the study coral across from you quietly whispers “i’m going to set everything on fire” and then turns to you and asks if you wanna take a break for dinner (say yes, she’s very nice and you both need a moment away from the stress). it’s the mornings they have omelettes and in good books and in a puddle that looks cool. it’s sometimes picturesque, but more often it’s full-belly laughter at stupid things on the floor of your friend’s house while in the background someone is debating the best way to win settlers of catan. 

“All life is a demolition job, but the blows that carry out the dramatic part of this task–the sudden hard blows that come, or seem to come, from outside–the ones that a person remembers and makes him blame things, and the ones that, in moments of weakness, he tells his friends about, don’t reveal their effects immediately. They’re the sorts of blows that actually come from within […] the sorts of blows that are related to a dull, muted pain a person doesn’t really notice until it’s too late to do anything about it, until you realise once and for all that in a certain sense you’ll never again be who you were.”