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“Sadness is the addition of melancholy, you know? Blue. Silver. Gray. Heavy as syrup. Gentle as the evening tide. Sadness fades. It has a beginning, and an end. Sometimes it loops, but there’s always causation. Not to be confused with depression, because that’s a whole different demon.” [...] “What I’ve been feeling isn’t sadness. There’s no end to it. It’s a black hole. Sucking, sucking, sucking at me. Eating away till there’s nothing left. It’s black, black, black. The absence of light. The absence of feelings in general. Nothingness, in the truest sense of the word.” He swallowed. “Even I can’t paint nothing.”

“He made me want to take charge of every aspect of his goddamn life. To make sure he ate right, to tuck him into bed on time, to fuck him when he acted up—and needed release. To bully my way into every aspect of his life so that I could ensure he was well-maintained and happy. To put that same dopey, needy look on his face like he was sporting now, all flushed and turned on—embarrassed by his own nature, but desperate to let go. Like I was the only thing that mattered. Like I was his world. And he was trusting me to take care of him.”

“You’re…something else,” I said honestly, softly. The words were simple on the outside, but the true meaning behind them hung like stars in the air between us as I traced the first fledgling petals of a delicate rose beside one of the tentacles on his ropey forearm. You’re something else meant… You’re perfect. You’re wonderful. It meant… You’re surprising. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re confusing in the best way. Three innocent words, with a love poem hidden between the cracks.”

“We all make mistakes. But we never stop loving each other. That’s what family is for. Everyone messes up.” “I don’t,” I said—quickly. I could’ve left it at that. Let this go. Like it really was as simple as one stupid decision and not that I was a bad bet, myself. But I didn’t. Because for the first time in my life I was ready to let her see me. Really, see me. My walls came down. “I don’t.” I bit my lip. “Not when it comes to helping our family. I can’t. I can’t make mistakes. I—I can’t. I have to be here. To fill in the gaps. To fix things. I don’t get to fuck things up. I protect us. I provide. That’s my job.” “Oh, sweetie.” Mom cupped my face in her palms. [...]“No one asked you to do that.” “You didn’t have to.” “I know.” She swallowed, her eyes shining. I hadn’t meant to make her cry, but hell. I was tired of lying, of hiding. “I wasn’t a good mom to you.” “Yes you were—” I interrupted quickly. “No, I wasn’t.” She laughed and the sound was wet. “I did my best. You know I did. But you deserved better. Maybe if I’d been a better mom, you would’ve learned that when things go to shit, other people are there to help. You wouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Maybe if I hadn’t failed so much myself, it would’ve left room for you to.” She stroked her thumbs over my cheeks and looked at me—really looked at me. I looked back. She was so familiar, and yet so different. [....]“I can’t be a totally horrible mom though. Not when somehow, despite everything I put you through, you still ended up perfect.”

“What did it say about me that my “practice boyfriend” was better at taking care of me than the man I’d thought would be my life partner? How had I never noticed? Scratch that—of course I had. I just…I suppose I hadn’t thought I deserved better. It was an awful sort of feeling, to come to terms with the fact that Brendon had been a horrible boyfriend when I’d put him on a pedestal for so long.”

“And yet here I was—falling for his charm when I’d promised myself I was done with this. That I would never let another man control my emotions. That I’d never give someone power over me again. I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t want to stop. Content to ride this train till the end, because for the first time in my life I was discovering what it felt like to be treated well. Which was…infuriating.”