“ There is nothing harder than telling your own mother you’re everything she hoped you were not. ”
Maybe that was what being together with someone really meant. It meant seeing past the idealization you had of them, embracing their flaws and fears, helping them to overcome them, waiting for them if they were not ready. Maybe being in love didn’t mean finding the perfect person, it meant it was worth sticking with an imperfect one.
~ Gaia B. Amman
Maybe beauty had nothing to do with the garbage TV tried to sell us. It was more a matter of confidence. Either way, I had none.
Life goes on, whether you like it or not. I just wished it could lurch forward. Time is the best doctor, they say, and that’s bullshit, because from certain pains you can never heal. They keep screaming inside of you till eventually you get used to the noise and can hear again the life outside, but they are always there, aching, clawing at your soul.
Everything seemed less frightening with music, even more so with music I knew by heart. It forced a familiar perspective on the scary unknown that was about to happen.