• in these final days i couldn't overstate the yearning for the specificity of this life
• the longing for the moments that we had at that beginning is immense- the richness, the texture of a life now suddenly, completely genuine, without an asterisk- and yet, the tax such intimacy placed on us
• but i remember, i cherish this memory, not just because of its characteristics because of the gift and burden of memory, of trauma. how it defines me and you, how no matter where i look, it is always there.
• i remember the windows blacked out and the hum of the air conditioner, the smell of the dogs, i remember the dysfunction. it made it feel so real. it made it feel too real. the razors edge of this life is the boundary between the fantasy i am told and the reality i inhabit, the most striking parts are the moments where i see the threads of perfection fraying, where i see the summarizations crush under their own inadequecies. that is when life is real. when the humanity, bittersweet, leaks out of everyone, where the connection is there. where for a moment, everyone is equal and broken animals in a machine of our own creation.
• i will miss you when you are gone. your love is imperfect and i would not have it any other way. in the end, i can recognize it as love.
• in the grand scheme of things, no one is so important, but in this scheme, everything means everything. how easy it is to get lost in the greater picture- to see the ends and forget your means.
• my only hope for you now is my only hope for anyone who breathes in and exhales out- peace.
• and i will carry the torch in the only ways i know how, and hopefully, the daughter i raise will not be as broken as the one i am.