What I have learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose our selves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.
Astley comes to my side. "Are you well?" "No," I tell him, voice hoarse. "I am not well. I am broken inside. I am broken almost all-the-way deep, and I don't know...I don't know if I can ever be unbroken, let alone well again”.
What we do,our choices, that's what defines us.
You know, life fractures us all into little pieces. It harms us, but it's how we glue those fractures back together that make us stronger.
I want you to want me because you want me, not because of grief, not because he is not here. I want you to love me for me. I want you to kiss me first and not because you need me to help you, but because you need to kiss me.
Is that Disney magic of pixie magic?" I kid... "It is life magic".
You will be a great queen when you come back, you know. And someday you'll love me the way you love your wolf.
You know, life fractures all of us into little pieces. It harms us, but it’s how we glue those fractures back together that makes us stronger.
Who am I really? Am I still the same person if I'm not even technically a person anymore? Does being stronger make me different? Will it?
