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Quote by T.J. Klune

“[...] But sometimes love is poison, and it drips in our ears until our blood runs with it.” “Bring pain,”he said again, suddenly insistent. “You. Pack. Everyone. I go, he stays away.” “Do you want to go?” [...] He said, “Thump, thump, thump.” “What’s that?” “Heart,” he said. “Carter’s heart.” “You hear it.” “Yes.” “It speaks to you.” “Yes.” “What does it say?” He looked stricken. “Gavin, Gavin, Gavin. Not poison.” And then he went to her, his head bowed. He pressed it against her chest, his arms hanging at his sides. He breathed heavily and shuddered when my mother reached up and put her hands in his hair. “There you are,” she whispered to him. “Hello, hello. You’re home. So, no. No, Gavin. You aren’t to go away again. We are stronger together than we ever are apart, and this is where you belong.”

Quote by T.J. Klune

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Brothersong

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T.J. Klune

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“Let’s build a relationship where we don’t break each other’s hearts during fights. Where arguments are always less important than the love we have for each other. Where none of us wait for the other person to resolve a fight. Where the competition isn’t about who wins the argument but who sorts it out first. Where our kids don’t grow up hearing us fight at the top of our lungs. Where our home doesn’t smell like violence but love. Let’s build a relationship where our kids are fluent in the language of love and averse to aggression. A home made of people whose love for one another is a flower unbothered by storms and forest fires.”

“When you fell sick as a kid, your mom wouldn’t sleep the entire night. You would even catch her secretly crying. As an adult, living away from home, you find yourself standing alone in your kitchen at 1 a.m., trying to find a medicine that would make your fever disappear. Your roommate is asleep and you don’t want to wake them up. You want to call your mom but realize that while it will give you peace, it’ll give her anxiety. You realize you can hang out with people all day long only to stand in the middle of your kitchen at night all alone, trying to find medicines. You haven’t had dinner, but nobody cares. You haven’t slept properly in days, but nobody has noticed. You’ve been perpetually anxious, but nobody has been able to dissect the sadness in your eyes. You go to the doctor’s clinic alone for the first time and a tear drops from your eyes. This is your rendezvous with loneliness. You’re away from home, constantly trying to feel at home. You realize there are people who love you, but nobody in the world loves you to the point where your illness makes their heart heavy. Nobody feels sick in the gut and has tears in their eyes when you’re unwell. You wonder if it’s even possible to find someone like that—someone who is terrified of seeing you in pain. You check your phone and realize you have ten missed calls from Mom, your home. You call back, and she picks up and says, ‘Is everything okay? I had a bad dream last night.’ You respond by saying, ‘Yes, Mom, I’m all right’. It’s funny how adulting makes you yearn for things you kept taking for granted all your life.”