Being alive, it turns out, largely involves making big mistakes, getting your heart broken, or else avoiding every beautiful and tender and vulnerable and true thing in order to prevent yourself from having a broken heart.
How horrible it feels to be in the world.
How lonely it feels to go through it alone.
How revolutionary to allow yourself to stay soft, to look for the good, to keep trusting that there is a different ending to the story you’ve believed for so long, to have the faith and courage to consider there could be another way, and to chip away at the path towards it, even if it means digging in the dirt with your fingernails.
To stay with it long enough to look up and realize you’ve finally made it home.