m > Books: emotional-damage‎ (131)

She was becoming my addiction, and there was no Narcan for falling for my fake wife.

She was becoming my addiction, and there was no Narcan for falling for my fake wife.

”Achilles had his heel. Samson had his hair. Superman had kryptonite. And I… I had Sydney.”(I do not lie when I say I stared at a wall and cried for five minutes after this)

“But Sydney… Sydney was like my own personal Rosetta Stone. She was both a question and the answer. The unknown and the tree of knowledge. A relative stranger… and my wife.”

“I stared at my hands on the wheel. I always drove with two hands. Ten and two. It was the safest way to drive, and I always did what was safest. Until now. Until now, when the most dangerous thing I could do was not hold on to her. I peeled my right hand from the wheel, using my left to steer as I took her hand in mine. Her fingers were cold, so I squeezed them tight.” my crying can solve the water shortage going on in canada rn


That was why I couldn’t get enough of her—because she humbled me. Because being with her made me feel like I had so much to learn—so much more to grow. To experience. Being with her made me feel like I had so much more to live. THIS IS WHAT MADE ME DIE. NO EXPLANATION NEEDED.

“Did you want me? Back when I kissed you?”
“I always want you. I just can’t have you.”

“Did you want me? Back when I kissed you?”
“I always want you. I just can’t have you.”