Loved it. Sobbed through a good portion of it, but loved it all the same.
Loved it. Sobbed through a good portion of it, but loved it all the same.
Have you ever been punched in the face by a book?
[id: Would I, one day, bring heirs with barriers between us to mourn a man I didn't let them know? Or would I allow the surname I had been tasked to carry on reach its dead end with me and stop the bleeding?]
I'm not crying, you're crying.
[id: Trauma shapes you; the rich soil of a wound grows beautiful things. But trauma without reckoning is slow poison. There are days I wish I had known this sooner, but I'm not sure it would have changed a thing.]