Reminders of Him Quotes
People say you fall in love, but fall is such a sad word when you think about it. Falls are never good. You fall on the ground, you fall behind, you fall to your death. Whoever was the first person to say they fell in love must have already fallen out of it. Otherwise, they’d have called it something much better.
There was before you and there was during you. For some reason, I never thought there would be an after you.
Reading is a hobby, but for some of us, it’s an escape from the difficulties we face. To all of you who escape into books, I want to thank you for escaping into this one.
I take a drink of my coffee and close my eyes and cry because life can be so fucking cruel and hard, and I’ve wanted to quit living it so many times, but then moments like these remind me that happiness isn’t some permanent thing we’re all trying to achieve in life, it’s merely a thing that shows up every now and then, sometimes in tiny doses that are just substantial enough to keep us going.
It proves that time, distance, and devastation allow people enough opportunity to craft villains out of people they don’t even know.
Maybe it doesn’t matter whether something is a coincidence or a sign. Maybe the best way to cope with the loss of the people we love is to find them in as many places and things as we possibly can. And in the off chance that the people we lose are still somehow able to hear us, maybe we should never stop talking to them.
A good person who had one bad night. It happens to the best of us. The worst of us. All of us. Some of us are just luckier than others, and our bad moments have fewer casualties.
have a daughter I have never held. She has a scent I have never smelled. She has a name I have never yelled. She has a mother who has already failed. Love, Kenna.
Sometimes I wonder if we’re all born with equal amounts of good and evil. What if no one person is more or less malevolent than another, and that we all just release our bad at different times, in different ways?.
Maybe the best way to cope with the loss of the people we love is to find them in as many places and things as we possibly can.
happiness isn’t some permanent thing we’re all trying to achieve in life, it’s merely a thing that shows up every now and then, sometimes in tiny doses that are just substantial enough to keep us going.
There are people who find peace in forgiveness, and then there are others who look at forgiveness as a betrayal. To them, forgiving me would feel like betraying their own son. I can only hope they change their minds someday, but until then, this is my life. This is where it’s led me.
Music still makes me think of Scotty, but thinking of Scotty no longer makes me sad. Now that I’ve forgiven myself, the reminders of him only make me smile.
So, you decide right now, right here. Are you gonna live in your sadness or are you gonna die in it?.
I don’t like that the one person I dislike most in this world reminds me of the person I love the most.
Here’s the thing. It shouldn’t matter if a mother isn’t perfect. It shouldn’t matter if she’s made one big, horrible mistake in the past, or a lot of little ones. If she wants to see her child, she should be allowed to see her, even if it’s just once. I know from experience that if you’re going to grow up with an imperfect mother, it’s better to grow up knowing your imperfect mother is fighting for you than to grow up knowing she doesn’t give a shit about you.
In a matter of a few weeks, I went from hating you to liking you to wanting the world for you, so forgive me if those feelings sometimes overlap.
How many losses can one person take before they just throw in the fucking towel, Scotty? Because it sure is starting to feel like I’m all out of wins, here.
I don’t know what to do with these feelings, so I wad them up and try to keep them stuffed in my throat, or my stomach, or wherever people tuck away this shit.
sometimes we do things for people we love, even though we wouldn’t choose to do those things for ourselves.
In the end, if there's nothing good going on in your life, almost every song becomes depressing, no matter what it's about.
When our fingers touch, I feel something else trapped in my chest other than my voice. Maybe it’s a few extra heartbeats. Maybe it’s an erupting volcano.
It'll be hard to read. But I'm not asking you to read it because I'm in love with Kenna. I'm asking you to read it because your son was in love with her.
Sometimes things seem good and perfect in the moment, but when you get hours of reflection afterward, the perfection can morph into something else.