#best things

The promise to Jason Grace.

He had meant the best things not the terrible ones.

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “The last time you were here, you were so lost. So…well, if you don’t mind me saying—”

“Pathetic,” I blurted out. “Whiny, entitled, selfish. I felt terribly sorryfor myself.”

Meg nodded along with my words as if listening to her favorite song. “You still feel sorry for yourself.”

“But now,” Sally said, sitting back again, “you’re more…human, I suppose.”

There was that word again: human, which not long ago I would have considered a terrible insult. Now, every time I heard it, I thought of Jason Grace’s admonition: Remember what it’s like to be human.

He hadn’t meant all the terrible things about being human, of which there were plenty. He’d meant the best things: standing up for a just cause, putting others first, having stubborn faith that you could make a difference, even if it meant you had to die to protect your friends and what you believed in. These were not the kind of feelings that gods had…well, ever.

Sally Jackson meant the term in the same way Jason had—as something worth aspiring to.

I love when I'm wandering the house and I feel his little snoot bonking into my leg like, "hey, I'm here with you and I love you".