live kindly

Tell me about the one who broke your heart and made you so sad you couldn’t cry and tell me about the time you cried so hard you threw up and the moment you knew you loved them and the sound your heart made when you realized they didn’t love you back. Tell me about the time your father yelled at nothing in particular and your mother stayed in the corner. Tell me about your first kiss and why is wasn’t as perfect as you thought it would’ve been and when you slept all day because reality disgusted you. Tell me how your stomach felt after the time you fell in love and you let it eat you alive. Tell me why you hate the holidays and when you knew it wasn’t going to be okay after all. Tell me about your father and why you can’t look at him anymore and your mother and why you feel so sad when you see her. Tell me why you don’t feel the energy to live and what songs have the most painful memories. Everyone likes you for the good. Let me fall in love with the bad.

And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again.

Forgetting is a form of freedom. النسيان شكل من أشكال الحرية