Thatās your first thought anyway. You watch the world bloom around you in short bursts and think that youāre fucked. You think that thereās no way that youāre going to be able to live the sort of life you always imagined for yourself. You think that this is all that there will ever be in your world; a decent setting, unsettling exclamations, and so many plot holes that youāve been to a psychiatrist twice to get checked for memory problems. You think your life is going to be inconsistent, sloppy and incomprehensible.
After a year, you notice that there are more people in your life. Your job isnāt solely populated by your boss, the secretary and the janitor who killed your best friend five years ago (which you canāt remember). Now thereās a woman named Mary-lee in the cubicle next to yours and a man named Gonzalez who works in a whole other department. Your company only had one department last year. Now itās got two.
You stop shouting quite so much and you stop feeling the need to smirk every time you see someone making a fool of themselves. Your words are more reasoned now, more natural, and you find your conversations lasting longer with your new coworkers and neighbors. Your city grows, suburbs springing up overnight. The trees start losing their leaves in the fall and itās not always night time when bad news arrives.
Your eyes arenāt orbs anymore, theyāre just eyes.
When you run into your estranged brother in the hall of your apartment building, you wait for the ridiculous explanation for why heād move in with you. Maybe every other house in the city is full? Maybe he didnāt know you lived there? Maybe it justĀ ābe like that sometimes?ā
Turns out heās not moving in. The woman heās dating lives two doors down and heās just as surprised as you. Small world.
Yes, itās a bit contrived. Yes, itās a little out of the blue. But, you realize, thatās how stories go. Sometimes theyāre out of the blue. Making the out of the blue seem normal? Thatās the mark of a true storyteller.
Theyāre getting better, you realize, watching your brother walk away. A lot better.
Theyāve been writing your life everyday. You donāt know why you didnāt think about that. Of course theyāre getting better. Through plot struggles and unpleasant writerās block, theyāve stuck with you and your story.
Through everything, every shred of doubt, every shiny new idea, every criticism, theyāve stuck with you. Theyāve worked hard to build your life around you. Theyāve put in the time to get better, to give you better dialogue and a brilliant place to live and an exciting life.
Theyāve grownĀ for you.
Thank the author that you were lucky enough to grow with them.
gracieabrams
dailybridgerton
areudirty
2087
