uncomfortable

 “hi welcome to mcdonalds what can i get for you?”

“So do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out. And decide.”

““i miss the sound of his voice and i miss his smile. i miss holding his hand and i miss resting my head on his shoulders,” she says. “i look at old photos of us, of him, and i can’t help but wish he misses me too,” she sighs. “i keep watching this old video of him; it’s dark and we’re in his car, and he’s singing. god, he was so happy, i wish i could make that happy again.””

“I wanted to write about leaving. About leaving him. About leaving pain behind. I wanted to characterise it as an act of bravery; as an act of freedom. The writer in me wanted to turn it into something beautiful. But the truth is it wasn’t beautiful. It was just leaving, it was just leaving. It was just walking away with a throat full of pebbles and trying not to choke.”

distortionly: