i want to know what it's like to be a miracle
there’s that very precise moment immediately after you hear someone say that ‘x died’. even if it’s somebody you barely knew, or didn’t even know at all but knew existed, even then, there’s the moment. if x was someone you happened to love those seconds might turn into a few minutes. there’s this weird feeling. then you start to adapt. maybe not right away, certainly not everybody. but it’s always surprising how soon after the words sink in you start to think about the world without x. and that - the world, your world, without x - and not the bruise you might’ve gotten in that first moment is what remains indefinitely. like a scar.