it’s like whatever right right
Why didn’t you come to visit him in the hospital?
Because he’s an eleven-year-old boy. I was scared of seeing someone so young be so broken.
Do you really think he’s broken? I mean, is he irreparable?
Hey, come on. There are good doctors there. They can help him.
How can they help him if I couldn’t? I’m his mother! I’m responsible for him!
Just because you’re responsible for someone doesn’t mean you can prevent them from doing certain things. He had his heart set on this from the start.
Did he get it from me? Is that where it came from? All this sadness.
Sometimes it’s genetic; sometimes it’s not.
How do you know when it’s not genetic?
You can see it in someone’s eyes. You just can.
God, I don’t know…I just keep thinking about his t-shirt…His little white cotton t-shirt, just hanging over the back of his chair at home. It’s almost like his soul, you know? That t-shirt is his soul and one day it’s gonna get ruined and dirtied and ripped up.
Hey. Hey. Listen to me. It already has.
— Conversation 2 (via writingsforwinter)